Author's note: I cannot tell ya'll how much fun I'm having writing this story…even though it's starting to get sad. Lookie, a new record, it's only been three days since I last updated! Yay me! Anyway, enjoy!

Dedication: This chapter is dedicated to my buddy Stacy. Girl, I don't know what I'd do without you! I hope you get that job man, you deserve it… ? Lol!

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Shift had gone by painfully slow and by the time it was over Sara was ready to crawl into bed and sleep the day away. Since she had gotten up the previous night, she had been challenged mentally and emotionally. From the note on her windshield to the case she had been assigned, the day had been rough, and now she was drained. She shut her locker and took a seat on the bench in front of it, allowing her head to fall into her trembling hands.

It was the first time since she had arrived at work that she had had a moment to herself, a moment to grasp what was going on. She could just barely feel the weight of the envelope in her pocket, but it weighed her down like a ton of bricks. All night she had been running a phrase through her head, and she did it again as she sat there, trying to grab hold of the days' events.

My mother is dying.

She took my father's life and now something is taking hers.

Sara's breath hitched and the first salty tear spilled over, then another. Her body shook and a sob escaped her lips, stifled only slightly by the palms that still covered her face. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to stop the now steady flow of silent tears, trying to breath in, doing everything she could think of to keep this from happening in the locker room of the lab. But the pain kept coming and so did the tears. Hunched over and shaking, Sara gave up trying to resist.

And then he was there, a strong hand gripping her shoulder, a solid frame to lean into as she lost all control, shaking body collapsing into his. His arms wrapped hesitantly around her shoulders until the tears subsided, her breathing slowed and she pulled away.

"I'm sorry. I… I shouldn't have done that," Sara wiped at the last of the tears rolling down her red cheeks.

"You don't have to apologize," Grissom said quietly.

"No, that was inappropriate. We're in the lab, and…"

"Sara," Grissom stopped her, "You're allowed to be human. What you found out today, it's enough to make even the strongest person break down."

"I just don't know how to handle this," Sara rubbed a tired hand over her face.

"You don't have to do this," Grissom said, watching her carefully when only silence answered him.

Sara stood up and stared down at Grissom. Radiant blue eyes stared back at her, slightly squinted in concern. In that moment, in that silence, Grissom was being more honest with her, more open, then he had been since they met. Not a word was being spoken, but he was saying so much with those blue orbs. He was not going to sit back and watch her suffer through this alone. Too long had he done that. No, he was here to stay, until this was resolved. And after that… well, that was for later.

"Yes, I do have to do this, but not for her. I need closure," she paused, then allowed him a small smile, "Want to come with me to see Janice Morrow?"

Grissom smiled and nodded. They walked out to the Denali, and made their way to the Morrow residence.

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A thirty minute drive across the city and three sharp knocks later, Grissom and Sara stood face to face with an older women with graying hair tying her apron around her waist. She frowned when they asked for Janice Morrow.

"I'm Janice," she stopped and looked Sara over. A look of recognition passed over her face, and her frown deepened, "I wasn't expecting to see you."

Grissom and Sara exchanged confused looks, and Grissom spoke up, "I'm sorry?"

"Her," she said, then turning to Sara, "You. It's Sara, isn't it?"

Tilting her head, Sara nodded slowly, "Yes, but you should know that. You left this on my windshield."

Sara pulled the envelope from her pocket and handed it to Janice. She took it from Sara and turned it over in her hands. She opened the flap and took out the note, reading it once, twice. Her face fell and she shook her head, "Oh dear. How did you find me?"

"We're criminalists with the Las Vegas Crime Lab. When I found this, I dusted it for prints. I ran them through our database and your name came up. You work for the state, you're prints are in the system."

"You're not in any trouble, ma'am," Grissom assured her, "We'd just like to ask you a few questions."

"Well, you can ask me all the questions you like, but I can tell you one thing off the bat: I didn't write this note."

Grissom and Sara looked at each other, then back to Janice, who had reached around and untied her apron. Taking it off, she stepped aside and waved the CSI's in.

The house appeared to be empty of any other people, but two plates were set at the table in the room to their right. The smell of eggs and bacon wafted through the air, and Janice briefly excused herself to turn off the stove. When she left, Grissom and Sara examined the room they were in. It was a large living room, but sparsely furnished. A couch, a loveseat and a faded blue recliner were spread around a small coffee table, and facing a television, which was gathering dust from disuse. Janice hurried back in and motioned for them to sit. She remained standing.

"My husband works nights and I like to make him breakfast on my days off," she shifted nervously, "He'll be home soon."

Sensing the woman wanted them to leave, Sara started where they had left off, "Mrs. Morrow, you said you didn't write this. How do you explain your fingerprints then?"

Janice smiled grimly, "I said I didn't write it. That doesn't mean I haven't seen it before."

Grissom's brow furrowed, "Where have you seen it before?"

Janice was fidgeting now, her slender fingers playing with the frayed edges of her apron. She bit her bottom lip as she slowly made her way to the recliner. Perched on the edge of her seat, she took in a deep breath and began.

"I met your mother when she was an inmate in the California State Women's Correctional Facility. I was her psychiatrist, and I help her with her appeal. Through our many meetings we became friends, and remained close even after her release. I know that she moved her a few years ago when she found out you were living here. She's been working up the courage to come see you, but after what she has done it is extremely hard for her to approach anyone or anything from her past… pre-murder. It's easier to let whatever she wants come to her. Four months ago she showed up with that note and asked me to find you and make sure you got it, but I didn't want to get involved in a family issue, so I declined to help."

Sara interrupted, "So the note was a guise to get me to find her?"

Janice shrugged, "Basically. A few weeks before your mother came to see me, she started having severe stomach pains. After seeing a doctor and going through several tests, she was diagnosed with stomach cancer. She was given five months to live. As a doctor and a friend I told her she needed to find you and make her peace before her time was up," she smiled, "It looks like she was able to find you, now you just need to find her."

Sara frowned, "Don't you know where she lives?"

"Well, yes, but… I went to see her two days ago, but her house was empty and she was gone. She left a note. She said she was fine, still alive, but with such little time left she had gone to do some final soul searching."

"Could we have that address? Maybe we can find something…," Grissom trailed off when Janice stood and left the room. A few minutes later she came back, carrying a piece of paper.

"I hope you find her before she winds up in a hospital. Your mother made some terrible mistakes in her life, Sara, but no one deserves to die alone… or die like that."

She handed Sara the paper with the address on it, then reached into her pocket. She stared down at the picture briefly before handing it over as well, "So you know what she looks like."

Sara took the picture and stared down at it. An older woman smiled back, the sun glinting off short cut and graying brown hair. Her arm was wrapped around the small shoulders of a young boy. Sara swallowed around the lump that had formed in her throat and looked up, "This little boy… is he…"

"My grandson. Your mother is always welcome at our family functions."

Sara let out a shaky breath and stood, giving a small smile to the woman in front of her. She felt Grissom touch her elbow. She turned to him, then followed his stare to the window. An older man was walking towards the door.

"My husband is home. I hope you don't mind, but…"

Sara nodded, "Thank you for your time."

Grissom and Sara exited as Mr. Morrow entered. As they pulled away Janice grabbed her husband's hand and sighed, "I hope they find her. Mother and daughter need closure."

TBC