Cradling the cat to her chest for a few moments, Sofia takes the time to sort out what has transpired just minutes ago. Shaking her head she dismisses the unexpected visit for later analysis and walks into her bedroom to change before she leaves home to meet Ortega down at the station.
The meeting goes as expected, all protocol. He hands her back her gun and badge, telling her she's been cleared to go back to work. Just like that. As if they hadn't just lost a fellow officer.
''Thank you'' she sais as she takes her stuff and leaves.
She should be feeling better now, or shoudn't she? Her worries and fears not confirmed. She's been cleared, got her job back. She hasn't killed Bell. And still, he's dead. That's nothing to be relieved about, let alone happy or satisfied.
Head hung low she trots out of the building. People still look at her strangely, obviously word hasn't gotten aound yet. She doesn't mind them for now, they will hear about it sooner or later.
When she is finally buckled up in her car, shielded from her colleague's eyes, she retrieves her badge and stares at it.
She remembers how it had felt to hold it in her hands for the first time, a sense of pride and strength radiating from it. Officially being a member of the force. She had felt powerful.
Now it was just a name tag. ''Det. Sofia Curtis'' she reads her name. Detective. That allows her, no, obliges her to carry a loaded weapon. A dangerous device that is thought to protect her own life and that of others yet at the same time can take an innocent life in a matter of split seconds.
''Detective Sofia Curtis'' she speaks out loud. What good has she done as a detective, she wonders. Sure she has arrested a bunch of filthy perps, violent, dangerous people. But the damage has always been done, they've already murdered, raped, hurt.
She sighs, wanting, needing to push these thoughts away. They were not the reason she became a cop. She desperately tries to remember what those reasons were, though. She can't remember, can't believe in them right now. Not until she understands what has happened and why she couldn't do anything to prevent it.
She makes up her mind, starts the car and drives to a place she never wanted to be reminded of again, a place she wanted to erase from her memory.
Making her way through the relatively deserted streets she arrives at the former crimescene. The only thing reminding of what happened here days ago is the remnants of crime scene tape flying in the light breeze of the morning.
Images flash back to her. The suspect running, shots ringing through the air. Bell rising.
This time when he's shot it isn't her bullet. But the pain on his face, the fear, his death- is real.
She watches the movie play in her mind for another several times before she has totally convinced herself that it is true, she has not killed the officer. Another several times, just to give justice to the fallen man, to make sure his death will never be forgotten.
She wipes the lonely tears from her cheeks and after a deep breath starts the car to head back home.