The boys have been asleep for hours, but Linda can't sleep. She tries Danny's cell, but it's been turned off. Has it been confiscated? Is it being searched?

She wants to kick the wall or scream horrible names at every member of Danny's family…but it took an hour to get the boys calm enough to sleep. She doesn't want to wake them up.

How the hell can Frank and Erin and Jamie sit there and do nothing? "Protocol," her $$!

This is freaking Danny Reagan they're talking about! Henry's grandson, Frank's son, Jamie and Erin's brother… Sure, he crosses the line—but so did Frank and Henry, back in the day.

But sitting on their hands and doing NOTHING while the love of her life—who hides his soft heart and brokenness and pain under all that tough, hard-ass cop act—rots in jail? Because they care about their…reputation? About the headlines it would make if they were seen to be…cooperating in a…cover-up?

Maybe the whole damn family's reputation is on the line, but Danny…Danny is all she cares about. His reputation—his innocence. What this is going to do to him if it drags on.

She turns the shower on and cries her eyes out, thinking of Danny alone and angry and probably hungry and sleepless, in the box* at his precinct.

She winds up organizing Danny's dresser.

By the time, she's done, it's 4 a.m. and there's an entire trash-bag full of holey undershirts, socks, and boxers. Men…

She lies down, hugs Danny's pillow to her chest, and cries herself to sleep.

She gets the boys cereal, pours herself a second cup of coffee. "Now, boys, if the kids at school start bothering you about Daddy going to jail, what are you gonna do?"

"Punch 'em!" Sean says, and she has to bite back a smile.

Jack nods in agreement, chewing his lower lip.

She hugs them tightly, blinks back tears. "No, we don't hit—you know that. You just ignore them, and hold your heads up high. And if you have to say anything—tell them somebody is trying to frame your dad. Do you know what that means?"

"Like a picture frame?" Sean asks.

"No…well, sort of. They're trying to…paint a picture that makes your dad look like a bad guy."

"So…no punching?" Sean asks.

"No. What are you going to do?"

"Be polite," Jack pouts. "And tell them Dad was…framed."

"That's right."

*
She's done three loads of laundry and dusted every inch of the house when the doorbell rings. Hoping it's Danny—she races downstairs.

It's Captain Elwood, and she lets him in, offers him a cup of coffee even though she wants to pour the entire pot over his head.

Thankfully, he declines, claiming he's already drunk three cups.

She answers his questions as tersely as possible, and then the door opens and she's in Danny's arms and maybe if she closes her eyes, Elwood and this whole mess of crap will disappear.