"Th—thanks for coming with me, Morgan," Reid said, shoving his hands deeper into his pockets as they walked through the front door of the tiny funeral home.
"No problem, man," Morgan said, wrapping a thick arm around Reid's shoulders. "Let's just make it quick, okay?" When Reid looked at him questioningly, Morgan explained. "I've never been good at calling hours."
Reid nodded, leaning over to sign the guestbook in his uneven scrawl. "I just want to say something to her mom, and then we can get out of here." Morgan nodded stiffly, looking around at the grief-stricken people hovering about in the cramped entryway.
"Mrs. Marshall?" Reid asked, approaching an older woman in the greeting line. "I'm Spencer Reid."
She closed her eyes, taking his extended hand with both of her own. "So good to meet you, Agent," she said, her voice wavering. "I wish the circumstances were better."
Reid nodded, gesturing to Morgan. "This is Agent Derek Morgan—he worked with Chloe as well."
Morgan lightly took her hand. "My sympathies," he said softly.
"I—I wanted to send my condolences," Reid continued, "Chloe was an exceptional girl."
"She was," Sylvia said, "she really, really was." She dabbed at her eyes with a well-used tissue. "Have you given any thought to the…the note?"
Reid rocked back on his heels. "Somewhat. I—I understand what she was feeling but not why she did it." He scratched at the back of his neck with his hand. "I think she felt that she had told all she had to tell."
"But that's not true," Sylvia said, shaking her head.
"I know, ma'am," Reid took her hand, "which is why I don't understand."
Sylvia nodded. "Would it be all right, if I…if I called you some time, to talk about it?" She looked around, at the line of people that was accumulating behind them. "After…after everything dies down."
Reid nodded. "That's fine, Mrs. Marshall."
"We should go," Morgan intervened, looking at first the line, then at Reid.
"Of course, of course," Sylvia said, dabbing at her eyes again. "Oh, one more thing," she said as they turned to leave. "Will you tell Aaron Hotchner that I really appreciate his foreward?"
"His what?" Reid asked.
"For the book, Chloe's book." Sylvia reached behind herself and retrieved a manuscript proof off the endtable. "He was here earlier, and gave me this—said they'd just printed it that morning."
"Could I see it?" Reid asked, receiving it from her outstretched hand. Turning the first page, he saw a small photograph of Chloe and a small block of text. He held it out for Morgan to read:
The loss of a young life is always tragic. When that young life has the utmost potential and everything to gain, it is particularly painful. In our line of work, we see much carnage. But Chloe's tragedy is especially heartbreaking. Though we knew her only briefly, she will never be forgotten. And though we seem to be shrouded in darkness, it is important to remember Chloe as she lived—as a brilliant, clever, strong, and resourceful girl. Perhaps, even though she is gone, Chloe has something to teach us—that for any great work comes a darkness that must have been present within all along. And that only light can overcome that darkness.
-Aaron Hotchner, B.A.U. Unit Chief
"As far as we can discern, the sole purpose of human existence is to kindle a light in the darkness of mere being." –Carl Jung