Michelle had been in her new house for a month, yet boxes lined the walls of her new place. She didn't have time to unpack; she made sure she didn't. She worked long hours at CTU Seattle. Though she had only been there a matter of weeks, she had already made an impression. She had even led a team effort between CTU and the Coast Guard that stopped an attack on one of the state ferries, the Issaquah, after only a week and a half on the job. Her new co-workers were amazed by her dedication and the long hours she worked. Even those who didn't know her past. After work, she went to the gym, letting mile after mile pass beneath her feet on the treadmill. She took her time in the shower, and then took the long way home. By the time she got there, it was already late, so she would watch TV until she was tired enough to go to sleep. Michelle was so busy in her new life; she barely had time to think. She made sure of that. Michelle was moving forward at her job, she just couldn't find the strength to care enough to put the pieces of her personal life back together.

It was Saturday and, when she checked the mail, the only item was a large envelope. She silently thanked the powers that be that there were no more returned letters from the Prison. That would be ridiculous, though, since they had all been returned already. She walked in the kitchen, pulled a knife from the sink and used it to open the envelope. Inside there was a packet of papers and a smaller envelope. The papers were divorce papers. Michelle looked at the ceiling and took a deep breath, then opened the smaller envelope. Inside was a hand-written letter, in Tony's handwriting. Her heart jumped at the idea of hearing from her husband at all, though she knew already what the letter would contain.

"Michelle,

"This does not change what I told you last time I saw you, but I didn't feel right sending this without something directly from me. But you know how I feel. Forget me, Michelle. Forget me, and find the happiness you deserve. I can't continue to live with the idea of you wasting your life on me. Only you can make all of this worthwhile.

I will find you in whatever lies beyond,

Tony"

Michelle let the letter fall to the floor, but threw the divorce papers across the room as hard as she could. They slammed against the front door and fluttered to the floor of the entryway. Michelle suddenly felt cold, so she went to the couch and lay down with an afghan wrapped around her. She had no more tears to cry, and instead let the darkness and the blanket and the couch surround her until it all disappeared.

Michelle awoke with a start, covered in sweat. She had been in the hotel again, had walked through those glass doors once more, as she did every night. Gael and the other agents always followed her in, and she could never remember to order them back until it was too late. She saw Gael's wife staring in through the window at her. Accusing her. She heard the screams of the children she hadn't been able to save. They screamed her name, but there was nothing she could do. Lately, she would turn down a hallway only to have piles of letters come down upon her head like Seattle rain, her own letters, returned by Tony. This time, however, she did not go in. She did not open those glass doors because she was too afraid. She looked around for Tony, checking every CTU vehicle and trying his cell phone. When she found him, he was inside, on the other side of the glass, and he was infected. She wanted to open the doors, to run into his arms and share his fate, but the doors were locked, her feet frozen to the ground in fear. And Michelle wished that she had not been immune, that she could have taken Gael's place. That she could have led her agents to the end of the path that she herself had started them down by opening two glass doors. Most of all, she knew that if she had been infected, Tony wouldn't have followed her, either. So many had gone into danger because of her, but only Michelle had been immune. And the gavel pounded with startling finality.

Michelle awoke to realize it was the door. She read the clock and saw that it was only 7:57 PM, much earlier than she had expected. She opened the door to find Jack standing there, a small suitcase behind him. "Jack?" she said.

"Hi, Michelle. It's good to see you." He hugged her, and, as he held her for that moment, an iota of strength seemed to come back into her. It seemed like forever since she had seen a friend.

"Jack. What are you doing here?" Michelle let him go and leaned back a bit to look at his face.

"Well, it would seem that I am unemployed at the moment, and I've always wanted to see Seattle, so I thought maybe you would let me stay a while if I helped you set up the place." Jack smiled. They both knew he was lying. Michelle let herself smile as well, relieved.

The next morning, Jack got to work unpacking Michelle's things. He wouldn't let Michelle help with anything but the smaller items, so he told her stories of what he had been up to, instead. He told her of Kim's attempts at being a Mom, and of Chloe's attempts at relating to people at all. Michelle couldn't remember the last time she had laughed, and she had forgotten how good it felt. Jack told her every light-hearted story he could think of, but there were two topics they didn't bring up. Jack didn't ask about Tony, and Michelle didn't ask about Jack's struggle to give up heroin.

"How long are you going to stay, Jack?" Michelle finally asked, after listening to him talk about Kim trying to chase Angela, who had run from the prospect of getting dressed.

"You're sick of me already, Michelle? I don't usually have that effect for at least three days!" Michelle didn't know how to tell him he could stay as long as he liked, so she just smiled.