Noah takes Sara out to a nice restaurant for lunch.

"So your dad said you took the Mensa test?" Sara opens with after ordering.

"Yeah,"

"And?"

"I'm a certifiable genius,"

"You're certifiable that's for sure," Sara jokes.

"Ha ha you're funny,"

"How did you do? For real this time?"

"I don't remember the exact numbers, but I am a genius,"

"That's my boy,"

"So who was that red head in the lobby?"

"Catherine,"

"A colleague?"

"Yeah, but I like to think of her more as a pain in my... neck,"

"She sounds delightful," Noah jokes.

"You wish,"

"So is there anyone special in you life?" Noah asks.

"No."

"Not a social butterfly?"

"Not exactly,"

"Catherine looks like she could help you out in that department,"

"She could also help me out if I wanted to be an exotic dancer..."

"What?" Noah asks in confusion.

"Before she was a C.S.I. she was an exotic dancer,"

"Well you have to start somewhere,"

"You make me so proud," Sara says sarcastically although it is true.

"I didn't mean it like that," Noah says defensively.

"I know,"

"I have an idea,"

"What?"

"You should try speed dating,"

"No,"

"Why not?"

"I lied. There is someone,"

"No there isn't,"

"Yes there is I swear. He just happens to be my boss,"

"Ouch,"

"That's just the way my life works out. Nothing is ever simple,"

"It's life it's not supposed to be simple,"

"How did I get a kid as great as you? I definitely don't deserve you,"

"Sure you do,"

"No I don't. You know it's ok if you're mad at me, I understand,"

"Why would I be mad at you?"

"Because I missed so many important moments in your life,"

"Mom it was never really clear to me why you left. I mean you guys always fought, but that was just part of the package,"

"Honey there are a lot of things you don't know, a lot of things that I've tried to protect you from,"

Sara flashes back to that night: February 14th 2000:

They'd been fighting all night. As usual. At least it was usual when he was home. Which grew more rare each month. Noah's room was at the east end of the house, and Sara and Brian's room was on the west. Sometimes Noah could hear them. But most nights his nanny would come in and read to him as loud as she could until it was over. This night he had his head phones turned on loudly as he read to himself. Most of the time when they fought it started in one place and ended up in another far away. Sara always walked as she talked. Actually she ran most of the time.

"Sara will you just come to bed?" he asks impatiently.

"I'm busy,"

"Sara just come to bed,"

"I don't want to come to bed because I don't want to fight,"

"Sara that's ridiculous,"

"No it's not. I never see you, but when I do we fight. I'm sick of it,"

"Sara stop being so difficult," he says as he gets out of bed and heads in her direction.

"You know what the doctor said, oh wait you don't. You weren't there. You never are. You're never around for anything, especially for your son. It makes me sick,"

"Sara shut up," he raises his voice sick of listening to her.

"Brian just go to bed and leave me alone,"

"Why do we always have to fight?"

"Because you have a bad temper,"

"Sara don't do this," he warns her as his face turns red.

"Is it such a crime for me to want to be healthy? To have a healthy child?"

"We already have one healthy child. I don't understand why one isn't enough? It's plenty for me,"

"You'd be happier if you didn't have any kids. You know that I didn't do this on purpose," With every word they would get louder.

"How do I know that? You probably did do this on purpose. Just so I wouldn't divorce you,"

"Quit being so dumb. I don't care if you divorce me. Go ahead. I'll just take my son, and leave. You know the only reason that I stay is because of Noah,"

He hated when she said that. It infuriated him, more than anything. He didn't want to admit there was a problem. He'd never lay a hand on Noah, but Sara was a different story. He stood silently. This was never good. And she knew it. He struck with his fist, almost instantly leaving a black eye.

"You know it's hard to cover up bruises when they cover 95 percent of your body. And it's even harder to explain them when you don't cover them up. You can't exactly tell your doctor that your bad tempered husband who is no stranger to drugs gives them to you. That he bruises you on a regular basis. And the only reason you stay with him is because of your kid," Sara heads towards the stairs preparing to run. She starts down them. Halfway down he catches her. He grabs her by the shoulders and turns her around.

"What is your problem? Do you want to get hurt?"

"No, but that doesn't seem to matter,"

In frustration he gently pushes her. "Go, you're out of here,"

She turns around and tells him, "I'm not leaving without my son,"

"If you keep going you won't leave with your life," he threatens.

"I'm not afraid of you. I'm numb,"

This time he shoves her down the stairs. She falls head over heals. She hits her head on the rail, and tumbles to the bottom of the countless stairs. She doesn't even care about her head wound. She clutches her stomach. He runs down the stairs and stands over top of her as she bleeds. She probably would have bled to death too if the nanny hadn't called 9-1-1. The EMT's were no strangers to the mansion. They were out there on a monthly basis. But she never pressed charges, and she always stayed with him. Sara blacked out until she got to the hospital. As they rushed her into the emergency room she could hear them.

"What have we got?" A doctor asks.

"Female, approximately 30, 22 weeks along," an EMT rattles off.

"Not anymore," the doctor says as she assesses the situation.

"Should we contact the authorities?" the doctor asks. It was a new doctor. She had no clue about the history.

"No. It's Mrs. Cooper. She won't press charges," the EMT declares.

End of flashback

Noah never let Sara know that he heard the fight that night, he never knew what it was about, but he could vividly remember standing on the top of the stairs looking down and seeing his mother lying there motionless.

"Mom thank you,"

"For what?"

"Loving me so much,"

"What do you mean?"

"I remember seeing you at the bottom of the stairs that night,"

"Honey let's not go into that. It's in the past,"

"I tried to forget it. I blocked out a lot of things, but that wasn't one I could,"

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry you have bad memories. It's my fault,"

"No it isn't. You were just a victim,"

"I've got to get back to work," she says quickly changing the subject.

"Ok," he agrees.