"Catherine!" Grissom called, as she passed by in the hallway. She stopped.
"Yeah?"
"Lindsey has a lot of information for us… I just spoke with her…" He said, not sure how to explain.
"What? Where is she?" She asked, checking her phone to see five missed calls.
"She called the crime lab and I told her you were out, and she said she saw what happened on the news and wanted to speak with me, she said she was across the street from the scene, I thought she shouldn't be out there, I went and found her, and she told me a lot of disturbingly accurate things…" Grissom said, scared for Catherine's reaction. She just frowned.
"Oh… well, thanks Gil." Catherine said, slightly confused, "I'll go talk to her when I get home… shift ends in fifteen… um… how's Sara?" Catherine asked.
"Well, she quit. But otherwise she's… depressed?" Grissom said, unsure. Catherine gave an expression of sadness.
"Poor girl…" She said, "Well, give her time alone… I'm sure she'll gather herself," Catherine suggested. "Gotta go… talk to you later?" and she left.
"Linds?… LINDSEY!" Catherine called, as she opened the front door. The little girl appeared at the top of the stairs. "Hey!" Catherine said, putting her coat away.
"Mom, it's three in the morning!" Lindsey complained, descending the stairs.
"Yeah, and we need to talk…" Catherine said, heading to the kitchen. Lindsey followed her.
"Mom… I know a lot more than you think I do, so don't be all … 'mom' about it…" Lindsey warned. Catherine sat down at the table, and Lindsey fell into a chair across from her. "About dad," she added.
"Well… I'm not that surprised, hun. Tell me what you told Grissom… I didn't have enough time to really talk to him about it," She told her daughter. Lindsey rolled her eyes.
"Mom you never have time. That's why we are here now, in the middle of the night, talking." She spat. Catherine told herself to be patient.
Sara woke up to the kettle whistling. She never remembered falling asleep. She rushed over before the water boiled over and poured herself a cup of tea. Returning to the couch, she turned on the TV to see the scene-that-must-not-be-named plastered across the screen. She desperately tried to change the channel. It was 3 am. What was on? White noise? She turned the TV off, and went to bed. Seeing her book, she picked it up and found her place. She got comfortable and sat there, reading.