Penelope was excited about the new faces in the circle tonight especially Tara. It suddenly hit her that she didn't know the young woman's last name. It didn't matter she supposed, she'd find out later; she had planned to invite Tara for coffee since she wasn't in a hurry to go home and sit in Derek's big house waiting for his call.

Most of the regulars had shared their stories, their progress and setbacks. Penelope had begun introducing the new members some of whom declined the opportunity to speak.

"Everyone, welcome another new member, Tara."

"Hello, Tara." The group sung in unison.

Tara smiled and glanced at Penelope who nodded and smiled.

"I met Penelope today at the coffee shop…I was a wreck!"

Chuckles were heard around the group of about fifteen men and women as Tara began her story.

"Today is the anniversary of my father's death. He was falsely accused of crimes that he didn't commit and before we could prove his innocence he was killed in prison."

Penelope watched the pain and agony that showed so clearly on Tara's face; the woman whom she'd met only hours ago made no attempt to hide her pain or stop the tears that flowed freely down her face.

"How are you handling everything?" Penelope asked.

"Not very well."

"I know it sounds cliché but time really does heal all wounds."

Penelope waited for Tara to continue.

"I want revenge! I want the person responsible for all of this to feel what it's like to lose someone they love!"

"We know you don't mean that, Tara."

"It's funny, we never understand the pain of others until we feel it ourselves."

Home of Stan Gordinski – Evening

Stan sat quietly on the side of his bed holding a half empty bottle of beer and staring blankly into space. It had been a long day and after twelve hours straight he felt the full weight of his body and his years. He'd been thinking a lot lately about retiring from the force. He'd worked almost thirty years to get to where he was and now he wondered if it all had been worth it. He had nothing to show for the years except a short-lived marriage, high blood pressure and an empty house.

Fran had changed him; she made him feel warm and soft and he looked forward to smiling when he was around her. He was quite aware of the fact that he absolutely did not deserve the woman with the big forgiving heart. He wondered had they met sooner if things would have ended differently. Whenever he wanted to talk about the past, her son and his mistakes she would shush him with her index finger placed lightly on his lips. Then she would look deep into his eyes with her bright green twinkle and smile. Even now as he sat and finding it hard to inhale, he missed her and he wondered how he would be able to go on without her.

Stan set the bottle on the small nightstand and opened the drawer pulling out a small velvet box. Then the tears that he'd managed to hold in their place all day, began to flow freely down his face as he slowly opened the dainty box in his hand. The bright glow of a ring that had made a dent in his life savings mocked him as he stared wide-eyed and he thought of what could have been with the woman who'd pulled him from the brink of despair and convinced him that he was worth loving, and worth forgiving and if she'd been willing to take the leap, he'd planned to spend the rest of his life with her.

Home of Fran Morgan –

Morgan couldn't keep still and he couldn't sleep so he decided to begin packing up his mother's things. He knew his sisters would be upset that he'd started without them but the memories of his childhood bombarded him non-stop and he needed a diversion. He smiled as he thumbed through his mother's extensive collection of old jazz albums. He had teased her continuously since moving to Quantico about the fact that she still insisted on buying vinyl even if it meant having to drive to the next county to a small tucked away record store the only place that sold them. He'd even given her more CD players than he cared to remember. He even opened an account on her computer so that she could download music but it didn't matter she loved spending quiet moments after working long hours listening to her favorites by Nancy Wilson, Ella Fitzgerald and John Coltrane.

The music seemed to lull him to another place and a time that now seemed so far away. There had been some happy times in this house; his father had seemed so big to him as a boy and he'd taught him how to catch and wrestle and he taught him that it was important to be strong and to watch out for his sisters. During times when his father was unaware that he was being watched, he unknowingly taught him how to love a woman. Morgan remembered the times when the house was quiet and he and his sisters were supposed to be sound asleep; he'd hear soft music coming from this same record player and he'd sneak down the stairs careful to miss the places on the wooden stairs that would creak and give him away. Then he'd peer around the wall to see his mother and father dancing-his father holding his mother as if she were a precious jewel swaying side to side with his eyes closed and a rare smile across his face. His mother, at least four inches shorter than his father, yet, they fit just right in each other's arms. He'd lost them both now, violence had eerily reunited them and it seemed so strange but he imagined his mother smiling and once again dancing in the arms of the man who was her first love and if he could find any comfort in all that had happened it was that now his mother and father were together again.

Community Center – Quantico, VA –

Tara watched Penelope from the back of the room. She promised her that she'd join her for coffee before returning to her hotel. She had a way with people; she genuinely loved helping and mothering them and for a moment she envied the woman whose life she would soon end. Tara had felt some relief in telling her story in front of the room of strangers who'd she never see again. They'd all been through tragedy and sorrow and each of them were searching for a way to make sense of it all and to survive clinging to the hope that time really did heal all wounds. The relief that she felt wasn't enough to change her mind and the sweetness of Penelope Garcia wouldn't be enough to save her from the same fate that had befallen Fran Morgan.

In a way, she was sorry but she'd promised her father that she'd make him pay for all the lies that had taken him away from her. Today had been unbearably long, the past year had been one filled with questions and it had squashed her last hope of proving that what had been said about her father was utterly untrue.

She watched as the last group member waved goodbye and as Penelope cheerfully walked toward her, she managed a strained smile. Tara would have loved to have a friend like Penelope she was a rare find indeed but it was too late now.

Penelope wrapped her arm around her new friend's shoulders and pulled her close. She was happy that Tara had come she felt it had perhaps done the young woman some good as she turned and looked into her eyes that were still puffy from her tears. 'Time heals all wounds,' she repeated to herself. That's what she would tell Derek when he returned.

"Are you ready to get out of here?" Penelope asked.

"As ready as I'll ever be." Tara replied.

"We never understand the pain of others until we feel it ourselves." Tara thought to herself.

So, without hesitation, she smiled back at Penelope and the two women headed out the door.