Jane hears her phone ringing in the other room. She races towards the bedroom, to keep the ringing phone from waking Owen. By the time she reaches Maura's guest bedroom, Owen is awake. He hands her the phone. She takes it from him.

"Go back to sleep. I'll just be in the kitchen, ok?"

He nods, closing his eyes. She walks out of the room, into the hallway. She finally puts an end to the incessant ringing.

"Rizzoli," she greets.

"How are you doing?"

"I'm fine Frost. Why are you calling, so early?"

"I wanted to update you on some things."

"Ok."

"The blood in your apartment matches a known sample of Nicholas Bentley."

"You're telling me that I shot him?"

"That's what I'm saying. I'm not sure how that can be, but..."

"Frost pull Nicholas Bentley's birth certificate."

"Why?"

"Maura said that the man she has in autopsy was never shot in the foot."

"So?"

"I shot Nick in the foot."

"But the DNA matched."

"I think that we should consider the possibility that he has an identical twin."

"Jane are you serious?"

"Yes."

"Ok. I'll check on it. I'll call you when I know more."

"Ok," she hangs up.

She tucks the phone in her pocket, and returns to the kitchen. Maura waits on her, with a fresh cup of coffee.

"Frost?" Maura guesses.

"Yeah."

"And?"

"The blood in my apartment matches Nicholas Bentley."

"What are you thinking?"

"That Owen was right."

"You think that Nicholas Bentley is still alive?"

"Yes."

"So who's in the morgue?"

"His identical twin."

"Does he have an identical twin? I guess we'll find out. Won't we?"

"Jane I..."

"You know it makes sense now."

"What makes sense?"

"We could never catch him, because while he was supposed to be doing a drug deal, he would be spotted somewhere else. He always had an alibi. It was always like he was in two places at once. If he had an identical twin, then he could be."

"You think that the brother took the fall?"

"No one knew anything about Nicholas Bentley, until he popped up here ten years ago. He just showed up one day, and started his business."

"What is his business front?"

"A used car dealership."

"He doesn't sell very many cars?"

"He sells tons of cars."

"Then why was anyone ever suspicious."

"In a recession you shouldn't sell that many cars. But, when you sell them to ex-cons without any proof of employment you can sell a lot."

"Jane?"

"Yes, Maura?"

"Can we get back to the other part of the equation?"

"What other part?"

"Owen."

"Right," she nods.

"You have a son? And you never told me."

"I told you, I never told anyone."

"Why not?"

"I couldn't afford to. I thought that I could keep him safe, if no one knew."

"Did that work?"

"No."

Maura looks at her. Jane tries to look away. "You never forgave yourself, did you?"

"Forgave myself?"

"For making that choice."

"How could I? I made the wrong choice. I never expected to feel the way that I did."

"What do you mean?"

"I never wanted to be anyone's parent. But..."

"But you were."

"I would do anything for him. I never wanted to give him up for adoption. I loved him, more than I ever thought possible. Every day, I wondered if I made the right decision. Every night, I lied awake, because I was sure that I hadn't. I made a mistake. His place was with me. I put everything before him."

"No, you didn't. You were trying to protect him."

"And I failed miserably. I didn't protect him. His adoptive father was killed in a car accident. He has been followed by his biological father, and his minions, for as long as he can remember. He was kidnapped. His adoptive mother shot, and killed someone, in order to protect him. She killed herself. Someone broke into my apartment. I have done nothing to protect him. He's scared, and he's hurt, and that is all my fault."

"You're the only one who can fix it."

"How? How am I supposed to fix it, Maura? How am I supposed to make up for all of the hurt, and pain, and confusion that I caused him? How?"

"You start over."

"I don't know how to do that. I don't know where to begin."

"You just love him."

"That isn't enough."

"You have to be there for him, when he needs you."

"I don't know how to do that. I am not maternal."

"There were never nights when he cried, and cried, and all you could do was hold him?"

"He was a good baby. He didn't cry that much."

"Jane he needs you. He needs you to tell him the truth. He needs you to be there for him."

"What if he winds up hating me?"

"One day he'll be a teenager, and I'm sure that he will. You should go spend some time with him, before your mother wakes up," she suggests.