Before the trigger was pulled Nicole was submerged in the most deafening silence of her life. Afterwards, the explosion pounded her eardrums in a painful contrast. The shock of his image rendered her speechless and horrified. His head was blown open; leaving pink flesh exposed. The blood seeped into the cream mink carpet making a growing crimson puddle three feet away from the bed. At first, she though he was bluffing when he held the sun to his head. She was waiting for his aim with seven recovery positions in mind. Their eyes met and locked in a hard gaze.

She couldn't recognise the person behind them; he was no longer the teenage delinquent whose fearlessness she admired. There was no misunderstood quality she could look past and love. Just hate. Pure, unadulterated hate. The slight smile and cold laugh her let out, shook her insides. Nicole's prophecy was self-fulfilling. He didn't kill her. He killed himself; right in front of her face. Filling her with more terror than Darnell could ever extract from her, dead or alive, was her lack of remorse or compassion. There was nothing. Just a numbness that was stronger than procaine and caused her to stand up straight, put on latex gloves and bags the weapon. This is what Pollock meant by ignoring feelings. It was something other than human.

The anxiety and pent-up emotions spilled from her mouth as she vomited profusely. Her throat felt like sandpaper and her eyes were sore, but there were no tears. She sat on the edge of the bath, dabbing a wet cloth on her forehead. The hinges squeaked as she went back to bed but she couldn't sleep from the fear of seeing his face. Her fear was filling her mind with thoughts of the case. The names, faces, places and events became one connected and ordered story which Nicole analysed on Antonio's laptop. Her nervous energy was being displaced onto a task she was compelled to complete.

Darnell came out of jail and found Warren Hutt a free man. Instead of exerting revenge; they went into business together; buying guns from Eastern Europe and selling them on the black market. Crossed a second time, Darnell discovered that Hutt was still pushing drugs; this time through his mechanic garage "The Hutthouse," and excluding Darnell from the deals. In a heated discussion at Hutt's four-storey, suburban complex, the pairing separated. That night Erica was sleeping over while her parents went to a retreat. Looking for painkillers in the medicine cabinet, she found 5 grams on cocaine hidden in an otherwise empty aspirin box and took her findings home. The reserved freshman became a popular and outgoing sophomore as her cocaine magnet attracted friends. As Darnell moved into the suburban teen market, he profited from their powder thin rebellion.

"What are you doing?" Antonio asked.

"Solving the case."

"You need sleep."

"I'm fine."

"You're in denial. Somewhere you're hurt."

Nicole stopped typing and turned towards him. Her animate hands were shaking and her facial expression, frozen.

"I didn't kill him." Nicole whispered through the lump in her throat as she sat on the edge of the bed.

"I know." Antonio said, drawing her closer.

"I'm not like my mother." Nicole's expression was an epiphany that brought her to silent tears, falling down Antonio's shoulder.

"Not even close."

"I envied Jasmine. Now there's just pity."

"She'll save herself one day. Everyone has to learn right?"

"Right. But that's her daughter. Why can't she love her?"

Nicole's spoken question was one she had asked herself for the past three decades. Antonio looked for a way to make Nicole understand that a mother's love, on its own, is never enough. That love is stated by words and deeds, but only proved when they mirror each other. That watching her endure this domestic war and still have the capacity to love gave him faith in their future and the courage to try again. But he couldn't find them.

Nicole exhaled heavily. "I don't expect her to love me. I thought that this case could make her, but I shouldn't be selfish."

"That's not selfish." Antonio argued.

"It is. You love me more than I understand. I don't want for anything." Nicole declared.

"Don't give them up for me. That's not what I meant." Antonio said guiltily.

"I'm not, but we come first. We deserve to be happy, right?"

"Right. That's why you have to go to brunch with your mother." Antonio told Nicole's questioning face. "Sunday's family day; that's the way I grew up. I'll brief Pollock; once Hutt hears about the death of the competition he'll be waiting for us to arrive."

"Because he's innocent."

"Of this. So go and be honest with her. And yourself."

Nicole uneasily greeted her mother with Antonio's words ringing in her ears. She chose the venue; the Burnt Orange café had enough people for them to talk without being heard. Her hug was a stiff embrace as if her arms couldn't lay flat, her mother's grip was tight and close. The waiter came to take their order.

"I'll have the scrambled eggs. Three egg whites, one yolk." Her grumbling stomach reminded her that she hadn't eaten since Friday night.

"Pancakes, please."

"With cinnamon." Nicole interrupted.

The waiter left them alone.

"You remember that?" Nina asked.

"Just a sensory memory." Nicole replied, avoiding eye contact.

"I apologise; I should have been honest with Jasmine and told her about you…"

Nicole shrugged her shoulders, reverting back to her adolescent defence mechanism.

"…I want you understand that I'm not ashamed of you. Actually, I'm proud beyond words. I'm only ashamed of what I put you through." Nina admitted.

Nicole's eyes danced from picture to picture on the walls because she couldn't respond. Her mother's presence had rendered her speechless because nothing ever made sense. Not even her explanations.

"After Antonio brought her home, I explained everything. As well as I could. I learned some things I'm having trouble digesting. You know, Jasmine acts out because she feels I don't love her enough. She told me that. And when I told her about you; she wasn't surprised at all. You both have my heart in different ways."

Nina found Nicole's irresponsiveness difficult to read, she dominated the conversation out of anxiety.

"I'm happy for you, you have someone who loves you and shows it. I know I've been wrong but you came out right. Look at you." Nicole's hands were shaking underneath the table. Nina teared up while Nicole asked herself why she was crying. The waiter served their late breakfast. Nicole moved her food around the plate; the thought of food gave her a nauseous feeling. Nina ate obliviously.

"Why did you have my dad killed?" Nicole asked abruptly, making eye contact for the first time.

"I was a coward. A strong woman walks away."

"Thank you for being honest."

"Please understand that we're very different women. Different lives, different times, different men,"

"Different values." Nicole replied with a cold harshness. "I don't understand. I never do when I'm with you. It hurts me." Nina dropped her fork.

"I'm sorry but you have to admit that it's hard for me too when you're judging me like this."

"I'm not judging you. I only asked a question." Nicole's voice cracked mid-sentence.

"I've changed. I have a new life."

"I know. I was written out of it, remember? I didn't fit until this Monday when you needed something."

"This is what I mean. This constant scrutiny. Fine, I'm a bad mother. Is that better?"

They sat in a tension-heavy silence on which Nicole shed some peace.

"You're my mother and for that I'll always love you. Though I can't afford to need you,"

"Because it hurts," Nina replied.

"Yes."

"You've suffered enough Nicole. Be happy, you deserve it."

Nicole drove Nina home ruled by outward cordiality and an inner want to spend more time with her. Even if it was superficial.

"James always asked what I wanted to know about you."

"There's a lot to know."

"I've got it down to three things. How are you? What's your favourite song? And, what do you love to do? You can tell a lot about a person by which song they connect to."

"I'm…coping. My favourite song is Fairy Tales – Anita Baker. And," Nicole laughed to herself. "Though it sounds crude, my favourite thing to do is Antonio."

"She smiles!" Nina exclaimed, laughing to herself.

Nicole pulled up in front of the Egans three-storey home.

"And you?"

"I'm…optimistic. I love to speak to my daughters."

"Your song?" Nicole asked.

"Ask Antonio." Nina replied with a genuine smile. "You're welcome."

"Oh, I can't. Not today."

"Well, you're always welcome. Don't be a stranger."

"I won't. Can I hold your hand?" Nicole's childlike request was granted. "I just wanted to know what that would feel like."

"It's okay." Nina embraced her daughter in the most sentimental yet suffocating way. Her bear hug was overwhelming as though she was making up for every hug Nicole ever went without.

Pollock called her on her way home.

"I need a search warrant for the Hutthouse and those high-school lockers. High school was the playhouse in Jess' visions. I'm sure that Erica and or Jasmine keep their stashes there especially since Jasmine was getting cocaine for free from Darnell and Erica steals it from her dear uncle."

"Very good Agent. Mastriani will go to St. Mary's for the arrest and Cortez leads the high school search. The powers that be have dictated that the DEA will conduct the Hellhole search."

"Haven't you forgotten someone?"

"Oh yes, I will have the pleasure of interrogating Hutt, Jones and Egans."

"And I…"

"…will sit in your office, eating two-day-old birthday cake, pretending that you didn't have a hand in this case beyond the administrative duties of an Agent on medical leave. Silent glory is the mark of a great victory, Agent."

"Thanks, sir. By the way, Sunday's family day."

"Thank you, Agent." She felt the warm sensation of proving her superior wrong moving through her as she called Jess.

"I'm ten minutes away, if Jack's not there."

"He's not." Jess stated abruptly. "See you in ten."

"What happened?" Nicole asked as she reclined on Jess' sofa, taking the advice of making herself welcome to heart.

"He went back to Indiana; he just wanted in on the action."

"Is that alright?" Nicole enquired, wondering how much damage control was needed, if any.

"I'm relieved, partially. I got what I wanted. There's not much more to it." Jess replied with a mature, cynical undertone.

"Was it worth it?"

"For what it was; which wasn't much. Enough about me; Clash of the Titans or the Treaty of Versailles?"

"A bit of both. She said Antonio knows her favourite song. How weird is that?"

"They crossed paths at the hospital. Come to think of it, it's a great song."

"Care to tell me what it is?" Her facial expression read impatience.

"No. You have to go home for that."

"I'm sensing some hostility on your part. Is this about the lap dance?"

"Yes." Jess stated through gritted teeth.

"I don't think it's a big deal."

"I was disrespected."

"No, you're only angry because your week-long Sexapalooza is over and you're frustrated. I thought you had an agreement. Come on, you don't love him. He was a pit stop; now get in your car and keep rolling."

Steam and water clouded the body of her lover and she was the eager, quiet spectator. Her eyes admired the definition in the man, her heart knew the definition of him. He invited her in but she declined. Instead, she lit some candles, pushed the sofa backwards and laid down some blankets and pillows. The lights were turned down low and Sports Centre provided the soundtrack.

Her kisses followed where her hands led. Her fingers traced paths over his skin, like love's mark embossed in his soul.

"How was it?" he asked, caught between the best of both worlds; massaged by the love of his life and watching his team play in the final four.

"Good for me. What's the song?"

"Your middle name."

"Simone. And?"

"She told me, if you listen you hear the joy that comes from every beautiful thing. That's what you are to her; a new dawn, new day, new life,"

"'I'm feeling good' is her song? Wow."

"She named you Simone so one day you could appreciate it."

"All this time I thought my dad's name was Simon."

"So Nicole Simone Scott what about us?"

"It's a new day."

"No ex-boyfriends."

"No ex-wives."

"Three storeys with a basement and a barbecue,"

"A Jacuzzi, a pool and a walk-in closet."

"A driveway."

"A white-picket fence."

"And a nursery; wishful thinking."

"Wishful thinking."