Horatio started to protest, then froze.
"Annamaria?" She gaped, open mouthed, at him.
"Horatio?"
"Mr. Caine," he reminded her tersely, unthinkingly.
"Yeah, well, Marisol says-"
"Marisol isn't-" He stopped himself, though the unspoken words floated thick through the almost visible tension in the room. Annamaria turned to leave, but the feds had blocked the door.
"Sit," Horatio ordered. She did, though rather moodily. Sitting on the corner of his desk, he peered into her beaten and defeated face.
"Ria..what happened to you?"
--
Annamaria was 15 when Horatio had met her for the first time. He and Marisol had been watching television together, before they'd been married. He clearly remembered her warm body snuggled against his, her head resting gently on his shoulder. The peace had been interrupted by a frantic banging on the front door. Marisol had immediately straightened up.
"What was that?" she whispered, her breath coming in quick, scared breaths.
"I don't know, I'll be right back," he'd murmured, kissing her quickly and getting up from the couch. He pulled open the door a crack. The pounding continued, increasing in volume and momentum.
"Please! Open the door! He's gonna kill me! Please!" Clearly understanding the girl's panic, Horatio opened the door and ushered her inside. He stepped outside and looked for the girl's attacker, but there was no one to be seen.
--
By the time Horatio had come back inside, Marisol had taken her upstairs and was trying to calm her down. He knelt in front of her.
"What's your name?"
"A-Annama-r-ria," she hiccuped. Horatio put a hand on Annamaria's knee until she looked down at him.
"Annamaria, can you tell me what happened? I need to know so that I can help you," he said gently, not that it did any good. Whatever control she'd had left shattered. As Marisol comforted her, she shot him a look. He shrugged.
--
Marisol had put Annamaria to sleep upstairs, then called Horatio down to the kitchen to talk.
"What happened to her?" he asked immediately. She sighed and looked at him wearily.
"I think you could have handled that better," Marisol told him, "Annamaria's boyfriend is abusive. She..she told me that yesterday he'd drugged and raped her. She's 15, Horatio." He saw that this had visibly shaken and hurt her. He put his arms around her.
"I'll find him. She's 15. I can't let him walk. I won't," he promised her.
"Good, I know you'll do everything you can." Marisol stood and stretched, smiling slightly.
"Now come to bed. You can stay tonight, can't you?" He'd smiled and taken her hand.