Frost and Korsak are waiting for Jane when she enters the bullpen around noon. She waves away Korsak's questioning glance.

"So Springfield got the DNA up?" she asks, throwing her jacket over her chair.

"Yeah," Korsak says gruffly. "I chewed Laurel out in IT for a good twenty minutes. They were supposed to be linked up three weeks ago."

Jane shrugs. "Kinda hard when the city votes to cut your funding in half. Their entire force is working doubles."

Frost nods sympathetically, but Korsak continues to look disgruntled. "We coulda had DNA match four days ago, Jane."

Jane sinks into her seat, rolling her eyes. "Who cares?" she asks, "It's not like the dead guy's an actual person with someone mourning him. It's Graves."

"He's a victim now, Jane. Like it or not. And he's your case. You're going to find who killed him."

"And shake his hand."

"Jane."

Jane scowls at Korsak, knowing it won't do any good. The man knows her better than she knows herself. "Can't you reassign it to someone who…"

"Who what, Jane? Who doesn't hate Graves' guts? Who here doesn't hate pedophiles, huh?"

Jane grits her teeth. He's right. He's right and she wouldn't want preferential treatment anyway. But she also has to be honest with herself.

She doesn't care who killed Graves.

"Where do you want me to start, sir?" She growls.

Korsak rolls his eyes, but doesn't call her on it. "Start with why Springfield is dragging their goddamned heels in getting linked up. We could have had the DNA four days ago." He pauses, and glances at Frost. "Then you can call the Brodys."

She should have seen it coming. Actually, with the way her hand slams down on her desk immediately, she thinks she probably did see it coming subconsciously.

"No," she says firmly. "No way."

"Jane," Frost this time, trying to head off the argument before it starts, but she puts her hand up and he doesn't continue.

"I'll call the Brodys," Jane says evenly, "So that they can tell their son that the nightmare is finally over. That's it."

Korsak sighs, pauses, and then sighs again. Jane is going to make him say it. "We need to know where Lukas was-"

"NO!" She stands suddenly, the force of her words making it impossible to stay still. "That boy would never do something so horri-"

"That boy left college, and dropped out of contact with his family. He came up here to tell you in person that he suspected Graves of the recent kidnappings. He refused to leave until you heard him out, and you told his parents that you thought Graves was behind it. Jane…if it was any other case-"

"But it's not," Jane says, "It's not any other case. It's Lukas. I've known him since he was a baby, and I'm telling you he's not capable of-"

"Overkill?"

Jane is brought up short. "What?"

"He finds Graves. He asks where the kid is…Graves won't tell him so he-"

"Stop!" Jane says, feeling her stomach roll over with revulsion.

"Your wife said herself that the amount of hesitation."

"Korsak. It wasn't Lukas."

Korsak looks both regretful and determined. "Any of his victims, then. They all have motive if they read the news they way Lukas did."

"And fucking vindication," Jane mutters.

"What was that?"

"Nothing."

"Damn straight nothing," Korsak rumbles, and then, thinking better of it, "look, Jane, I know you don't want to face the fact that maybe someone with a good heart might have done something wrong…but-"

"Are you ordering me to call the Brodys?" Jane asks, standing up from her desk and squaring her shoulders against her former partner. "As my chief?"

Korsak looks at her for a long time. "No," he says finally. "No yet."

"Then if you'll excuse me, sir," Jane says, grabbing her jacket from the back of her chair, "I promised my wife I'd be home in time for dinner."

"Jane," Frost calls after her, but she doesn't turn around. He sounds like he might reprimand her, and she's not sure she could handle anything accusatory at that moment.

….

….

The house is warm and quiet when she gets home that afternoon. She'd seen at least three of her children in the park as she drove home, playing soccer with some of the other children from the neighborhood. She'd been glad to see them out and running around, and not inside glued to the television. Soon it will be too cold for outdoor sports without a snow suit, and all her children will settle into digital hibernation.

So Jane steps into a nearly silent house. She steps into the coat closet to divest herself of her belt and jacket, and when she comes out, she catches sight of Maura waving to her from the top of the stairs, finger to her lips.

Jane climbs the stairs and kisses her wife hello. "Saw the kids at the park," she says quietly, dropping to a whisper when Maura puts her finger to her lips again.

"I only saw three though, I think."

Maura nods. "Korsak called," she whispers. "He told me you left in a fit."

Jane makes a noncommittal movement with her shoulders. Maura hesitates. "He...wanted an alibi for you for Graves' death."

Anger obscures Jane's vision for a moment, and Maura puts her hand on the detective's forearm to steady her, recognizing the look. "He knows you didn't do it, Jane," she says.

"I know," Jane answers through gritted teeth. "If I'd done it, there'd be no hesitation marks." She looks around the hallway. "Why are we whispering?"

Maura inclines her head towards the closed bedroom door. "McKenzie just got out of the shower. She called Isabelle to 'help' her about five minutes ago."

Jane can't help her smirk. "You're spying!" she hisses gleefully.

"I am…yes," Maura admits.

"I love you," Jane says reaching to pull Maura's hand to her lips. "You're the perfect woman."

"Hush," Maura says with a grin.

The two women lean closer to the door.

There is a sharp intake of breath, and then Isabelle hisses an apology. Jane feels Maura twitch.

"Y-You should let Mommy look at that," Isabelle continues quietly. "She could make it feel better."

There is a brief pause, and then McKenzie's voice says, matter-of-factly. "No. She couldn't."

"She's a doctor," McKenzie says reasonably. "She could at least tell you how serious-"

"I know how serious it is," McKenzie responds quickly, and for the first time, there is a trace of anger in her voice.

There is a longer silence this time, and then Isabelle speaks again, her voice even softer. "Okay," she whispers. "I'm sorry."

"No," McKenzie says after a moment. "I am. I'm sorry, Belle. I know you were just trying to help…I just…I'm jumpy."

"It's okay," Isabelle says eagerly. "You're safe here, and Mama says you can stay as long as you want. Mom agrees, Kenzie. You can stay as long as you want."

There's a shuffling noise, and when Isabelle speaks again, her voice is muffled, like she's speaking through a blanket.

"I've never met my ma's grandfather, you know," she says softly. "He used to beat my ma, and she doesn't want him near us."

A pause. "Where is he now?" McKenzie asks.

"I don't know…he tried to come around when we were very young…me and Sofia, but Gramma and Ma kept him away, so he couldn't hurt us too."

"Would he have?"

"I don't know…Ma thinks so…so I think so too."

"Your parents would never let anything happen to you," McKenzie whispers, sounding caught between envy and comfort.

"They want to help you too, Kenz," Isabelle says earnestly. "Honest. If you tell Mommy-"

"No."

"Or tell me…and maybe I can bring it up with Mo-"

"No. Isabelle, you promised. You swore. Just drop it…please."

"But something real bad must have happened for you to-"

"Drop it," McKenzie says harshly, her voice cracking. "Please just…please…" She starts to cry, and Maura reaches for the door knob, but Jane pulls her back, shaking her head.

"Wait," she mouths.

"I-I'm sorry," Isabelle says shakily. "I didn't mean t-to…"

"He meant everything to her, and I meant nothing." Kenzie's voice is muffled, and Jane imagines she's buried her head in Bella's shoulder. "What do I do?" she sobs.

Maura has both hands over her heart. Jane leans forward to kiss behind her ear. "She's here," she reminds her wife in a whisper. "She's safe."

"I'm here," Bella says softly, like an echo of her mother. "You're safe now. Here with me."

Jane pulls a reluctant Maura away from the door, back down the stairs.

"Jane!" Maura says once they are out of earshot. "I need to go in there. You heard Isabelle. McKenzie may be hurt.

Jane rolls her shoulders. "She's bruised. Maybe a little cut up. If she needed emergency attention we'd already know, Maura."

"What about all the times you needed medical attention and didn't seek it, Jane?" Maura counters.

Jane doesn't answer the question. "I'll talk to Isabelle after dinner, okay?"

Maura shakes her head. Worry creases between her forehead and around her eyes, and Jane notices that the lines are a bit deeper than they used to be.

They are both getting older.

"They were talking about favorite days earlier," Maura says. "Before McKenzie showered. She asked Isabelle what your favorite day was, out of any."

"What did Bella tell her?"

Maura smiles. "August 10th. The day we all became a full family."

Jane smiles, and pulls her wife towards her, opting for a hug instead of a kiss. They still have their arms around each other when Sofia, Levi, and Noah push in through the front door.

"Ugh!" Sofia says as she passes. "You guys are always hugging."

Jane rolls her eyes as she pulls away from Maura to chase after her daughter. "We LOVE each other!" She cries, grabbing Sofia from behind and lifting her off her feet with the force of her hug. "Poor you! Your parents are so happy together!"

Maura and Levi, still in the hall, start to laugh.

"Me next!" Noah cries, holding his hands out to his mother.

None of them notice McKenzie, hair still damp from her shower, watching from the first landing.

…

…

"Here's my question though," Frost says, running his hand over his head. It is the day after Graves has been identified, and Frost and Jane have been in the bullpen for almost six straight hours, looking for a way around calling up all of Grave's surviving victims as suspects. Korsak has given the duo twelve hours to come up with an alternate viable lead before they have to start making calls.

"Here's my angle," Frost says tiredly, "If Graves is dead. If he's been dead…why's this still a missing person's case?"

"What?"

"Where's the kid? The boy?"

Jane frowns, "Maybe dead too?"

"Why haven't we found him yet? Graves was never a mastermind of secrecy. His bodies were dumped. People stumbled on them within 48 hours of disposal."

He's right. Jane remembers the case files. All the boys were found within three days of their deaths.

"And they're too old," Frost says, continuing down his line of thought. "They're too old for Graves, Jane, aren't they? How old was Lukas."

"Four."

"And this last boy that disappeared…he was what…"

"Seven," Jane says, the memory of the news cast coming back to her. "He was seven. It bothered me too, when I heard that," she admits. "But the boy before that was five…and before that too…maybe he just miscalculated."

Frost makes a face like his next sentence has already curdled in his mouth. "Awful lot of time practicing to miscalculate something like that."

Jane grimaces at the wording, but she has to admit that he's correct. "Yeah."

They sit in silence for a while, Frost clicking on his computer every so often, Jane staring off into the middle distance, trying to organize her thoughts.

"Well," she says finally, sitting up, "this should put Lukas Brody, and any other victim in the clear."

Frost looks up from the computer. "How so?"

"If one of them found Graves, and killed him, why wouldn't they return the boy? Lukas would have brought him here or…put him in a park or something, where he could get recognized. Any of the victims would."

"Unless he's already dead," Frost counters.

"But still," Jane shoots back. "They wouldn't leave him unfound. They wouldn't be able to do that to the family that lost him…not with their backgrounds."

Frost nods. "That's solid," he says, sounding relieved. "That's a solid argument, Jay."

She knows he understands her desire to keep Lukas' out of the suspect pool as long as possible. She nods, and they lapse into silence again for a long time.

"Okay…" Jane says finally, leaning back in her chair. "Let's go back to the beginning."

Frost nods, making a tapping for a moment on his computer. "Okay," he says. "Kieran Graves, 47, short haul trucker based in the northeast. Grabbed his first kid in Connecticut twenty two years ago, January fourth, a…" Frost taps a couple keys. "Mason Dickerson, age four. He keeps him with him for six days, and dumps him in Vermont. This action is repeated sporadically over the next four years, with one seven month gap."

"Wonder what that was about," Jane says absently.

Frost continues to type away. "I think I know," he says after a while. "When we put Graves away, he had two regular visitors at holding in Worcester. They were regulars after he went downstate too, at least for the first year he was in."

"Who?"

Frost pauses. "Eileen Graves and…son, Kieran Jr."

Jane gapes. "Son?"

Frost nods.

"What happened to them? Where are they now? That's motive right there, Frost." Jane hears her voice getting louder, but can do nothing to stop it.

"I know, I know…I'm looking," Frost is staring hard enough to burn a hole through his computer. "They moved into the city, years before Graves got out…stopped visiting…but then there's no trace of them. I don't see a Driver's license for either."

"Widen the search and run it again," Jane says, sitting up. "These are our prime suspects, not the Brodys." Even as she says it, she can feel relief starting to loosen her chest.

Frost gives her a knowing look. "I've set it to run all 50 states," he says. "I'll make some calls as well, see if I can't get more on them."

"Enlist Silas," Jane suggests. "It could explain why we still don't have the missing kid."

Frost nods as he stands up, and Jane follows suit.

"I'm gonna run home and check on everyone," she says checking her watch. "I promised Maura I'd talk to Isabelle, and I flaked last night."

Frost nods. He knows what's going on with McKenzie. "Go," He says. "Stay as long as you need."

…

…

It's still well after dinner when Jane finally calls Isabelle into the kitchen. She gestures that the teenager should sit down across from her at the table, and then pauses for a moment, trying to gather her thoughts.

"You can't make her leave," Isabelle bursts out into the silence. "Please."

Jane raises her eyebrows. "I have no intention of making her leave, Izzy," Jane says gently. "But…what's happening here is really, really serious."

Isabelle stares at her, waiting.

Jane takes a breath. "Has she said anything to you? About what's going on?"

Isabelle blinks. "Even if she did say something, I wouldn't tell you."

If Sofia had said this, Jane would have taken offense. As it comes out of Isabelle's mouth, however, it just sound like the truth, with no hint of confrontation at all.

Jane nods. "I know you want to be loyal to her, hon, but...if someone is hurting McKenzie. If someone is hitting her, or neglecting her...that's something that Mommy and I have to deal with."

Isabelle shakes her head. "You want to save her like she's one of those boys. You think she's like them."

"Isabelle, it's my job to-"

"My girlfriend isn't your job!" Jane watches her daughter's eyes fill up with tears. "What if you do save her like she's one of those boys. What if she does tell you what's going on? What if then she has to go away somewhere, and you and I can't see her, and she gets hurt worse?"

"Is that what you're scared of? Honey-"

"Why can't she just stay here? With us."
Jane shuts her eyes, linking her hands together on the table like she's praying. "She's welcome here any time she likes, Belle, you know that. But if, when she leaves here, she's no longer safe...babe, that's something that Mommy and I have to deal with. Can you understand that? The law says we have to."

She hadn't wanted to bring mandated reporter into the conversation, but she doesn't see any other way around it. Isabelle looks down at the table and sniffs.

Jane sighs. "Listen. Think about the person who has been hurting those little boys. Mommy and I have been working really hard to find out who's been doing it. And...yesterday, we found out that one of the people we thought had been hurting them was dead. He'd been murdered."

Isabelle looks up from the table at Jane, and the detective continues, bolstered by the attention.

"Now...I didn't want to...go looking for the person who killed this guy, because at first I didn't think he deserved it. I thought whoever had done it was right, and we should let everything go.

"But, Bella, if I did that...If I decided who deserved justice and who didn't? That would be wrong. That would be taking the law into my own hands, and I can't do that. We can't do that. It's the same thing with McKenzie. I am not able to just sit by and let bad things happen and hope that things work out. It's not right."

Isabelle wipes her eyes. "How do you know what the right thing is? How do you know what's unforgivable?"

"Bella, no one has the right to hurt another person. No matter the excuse given. If you see someone hurting someone else, you do everything in your power to stop it. If someone is hurting McKenzie…then they have to be stopped. It's not right, baby."

Her phone buzzes at that moment, and she looks away from her daughters blue green eyes and down at the little screen.

"It's the precinct, hon, I gotta take this."

Bella nods, moving to stand up, but Jane reaches across and takes her daughter's hand. "I love you, nugget," she says, comforted when Isabelle looks reassured. "Everything's gonna be okay."

"Double it," Isabelle murmurs, and Jane lets her go to pick up the call.

"Rizzoli."

"Hey, Jane. It's Frost."

"Hey Frost," Jane watches as Isabelle pushes back from the table and heads from the room. She can see the toes of her girlfriend just visible around the corner of the doorjamb, and knows that McKenzie has been eavesdropping on their conversation. She hopes that something she said has resonated with at least one of them.

"Jane? Did you hear me?"

Jane shakes herself, trying to focus on her partner's voice. "Sorry," she says. "Sorry, Frost, what is it?"

"I found them. Well, for a moment. Eileen Graves and her son Kieran were living in section 8 housing about twelve years ago. I just got off the phone with the section director, who, thank God, has been working there as long as cockroaches have been alive. He said the son was a troublemaker. Used to set the end of his cat's tail on fire."

"Sociopath," Jane says, her mind still on McKenzie. "I'm guessing they're not still there?"

"Correct. He says she got pregnant by a man and they moved in with him. Common name like Smith or Rogers...Brown. Something like that."

"Unhelpful," Jane says.

"Indeed. But he did give me one more piece that I think we can use."

"Spill it."

"He said the son is dead. Died in some horrible tragic accident, and the mom was never right after."

Jane snaps back to the conversation fully. "Does he know what happened?"

"He can't remember."

"Figures," she bites her lip, listening to the TV turn on in the family room. "Okay. Can you run deaths for boys between the ages of fifteen and seventeen, last names-"

"Graves, Brown, Smith, Rogers. I'm on it, Jane."

She sighs gratefully. "I'll come relieve you soon, okay?"

Frost chuckles, "Don't bother, Jay. I know you're having a time with Isabelle and McKenzie. There's no need for you to come in if there's no news. I'll call you if anything comes up."

"That's not fair," Jane says reasonably.

"Totally fair," he retorts. "You have a family, and they need you right now."

"You're trying for a family…isn't your lovely wife…ovulating right now?"

"Gross, Jane!" Frost says teasingly. "C'mon!"

Jane rolls her eyes. "Oh, stuff it, you jerk," she says fondly. "Thanks, Frost. That's some damn good sleuthing."

"Oh, God, what is wrong with you?" Frost laughs, and Jane finds herself lauging too.

She hangs up the phone feeling better, and when Noah comes racing into the kitchen to ask her if he can make an ice cream sundae, she laughs and nods, and tells him only if he puts some brownies on it too.

…

…

She is young. Shorter than she should be, but faster and stronger too. For a moment, she thinks that she is alone. The room she standing in is dark save a sliver of light cast by a cracked door. She stands upright, every muscle tense and alert.

Alert for what? She feels as though she has come back to consciousness just after an important event. She should know what is happening, but she doesn't.

And then, there's the sound like whistling wind, and the hard slap of leather on skin, and Jane wails without opening her mouth.

No.

She feels frantically at her body, and then brings her hand up to her mouth.

She hasn't cried out. She is not hit.

Again the sound "shhhhthp" and the hard crack of the lash, and her voice crying out in pain. Only now, she realizes that it is not coming from within her, or even from within her room.

Jane leaps towards the door, pulling it open and squinting into the light. The sound comes again, and the cry, and this time, Jane echoes the cry.

Her father is there, in the middle of the floor, leather belt raised high over the back of a child.

Her child.

Sofia.

"NO!" Jane cries, and she lunges forward as the belt whistles through the air again, and Sofia cries out in her mother's voice.

Fury and fear surge through Jane, and she feels her knees hit the hard wood floor as she reaches her daughter and throws her own body over the child's.

"Daddy, Stop!" she cries. "She's not me!"

She raises her arm to block the belt as it falls again, and it stings as it wraps around her forearm.

"Stop!" she cries out again. "Stop! She didn't do anything."

"Filthy, dirty, nasty little dyke. I'll make her pay, Angela. Get out of the way!" Frank yells.

Some part of Jane registers that her father has called her by her mother's name, but almost all of her attention is focused on the child in her arms, who shivers and sobs against her chest.

"I'm Jane!" she yells at her father. "Leave her alone."

"None of you are who you say!" He cries back. "You bring me an imposter like it will fix the problem!? You're the reason they killed him. This one's important to you? It's not even mine! I'll kill it! I'll kill it, Ange, get out of the way."

"Mama!" Sofia sobs. "Mommy!"

The belt comes down again, and Jane blocks it with the same part of her arm, ignoring the way it bites at her skin.

"She's not me," She sobs out. "Leave her alone!"

"I'll kill it. Imposter!" Frank yells. And Jane's hands close over the knife.

She lunges up at her father, and she plunges the knife into his right shoulder, pulls it out, and sinks it back into his breastbone, grunting at the effort.

Frank falls backwards and howls in pain, but Jane ignores him, the cries of her daughter still rebounding in her head. She pulls the knife out again, and moves to thrust it back into the man underneath her. Her father…her abuser. The bastard who thought he could hurt her child.

"JANE!"

"Don't you fucking touch my-"

"JANE! You need to wake up, RIGHT NOW!"

Jane sits bolt upright in bed, forearm aching and chest heaving. Next to her, Maura sits back on her haunches, wide eyed.

"Maura!" Jane says. "Sofia…My father!"

Maura shakes her head quickly. "No," she says firmly. "No. It was a dream."

"He thought she was me…He kept…he kept calling her an imposter…he beat her."

"No." Maura says, reaching her hand out to touch Jane's shoulder. "No, honey…it was just a dream."

Jane raises her hands to rub her face, and she feels Maura's arms come around her, now that it's safe. "It was just a dream, honey…a really, really awful dream. Are you okay? You're shaking."

"Jesus," Jane mutters into her fingers. Adrenaline is still pumping through her body. "What the hell was that about? I've never had a dream about Pop. I mean never."

Maura hesitates for a moment, rubbing Jane's back in slow, easy circles. "I think," she says quietly, "that it might have something to do with McKenzie."

Jane lowers her hands and blinks around at the darkened room. "McKenzie?"

She feels Maura nod. "I think hearing what we heard earlier…might have brought back certain memories."

Jane shakes her head. "Why Fia then? Why not just him beating me?"

Maura flinches slightly at the verb, but doesn't pull away. "Transference," she says simply. "You're fiercely protective of all of them, and it would kill you if-"

"He kept yelling 'imposter…you bring this imposter here and think…" but Jane breaks off, trying to remember the rest.

"Well," Maura says reasonably. "Sofia does look very much like you, Jane. It's natural that-"

"It's not even mine," Jane says suddenly, and Maura falls silent.

"What?"

"That's what he said. It's not even mine." Jane shuts her eyes tight. "He said…you bring this imposter like it will fix everything…then something like, you're the reason he died in the first place."

"He who?" Maura asks quietly.

Jane shakes her head. "I don't…I don't know." She pushes the covers back and stands up. "I have to check on Sofia."

Maura lets out a breath that could be a suppressed sigh. "She's okay, Jane," she says quietly, starting to follow the detective out of bed. "She's fine, honey."

"I know," Jane says absently. "But I want to see her. That's all."

Maura follows Jane into the hall, and watches as she pushes the door to the twins room open and disappears inside. But she comes back out right away, and goes across the hall to the guest room quickly. She reappears immediately from that room as well, and brushes by Maura to the bathroom.

"Jane?" Maura calls.

Jane comes back into the hall, and her eyes are bright white in the dark hallway.

"McKenzie's gone," she says urgently. "McKenzie's go-"

But then everything clicks. Her subconscious shakes the last clues from the dream into place and she sees it all there as clearly as if someone has drawn it for her.

What's the most important day for your Ma, do you think? The day you and Sofia were born?

I think August 10th. The day we all became a full family.

"Oh, shit," she says, turning and heading for the stairs, flipping the lights on as she goes. "Fuck!"

"Jane!" Maura calls after her. "What is going on?"

How do you know what the right thing is? How do you know what's unforgivable?

Bella, no one has the right to hurt another person. No matter the excuse given, it's not right. And if someone is hurting McKenzie…then they have to be stopped. It's not right, baby.

Jane jumps the last three steps to the first floor and flings the door to the closet open.

Her gun safe is open.

And empty.

Maura's gasp makes her whirl around.

"Call Frost," she says urgently. "Tell him to send SWAT to 10 Bucknam, Apt. 1. Tell him to call Flannery and Silas, and tell them their missing kid is there too."

"What?" Maura looks completely baffled. "Jane…what are you saying-"

But Jane shakes her head, reaching into the closet for her belt and jacket. "Maur, there's no time. Just do it. Tell them I'm already on route."

"Jane-"

"Keep the kids home," she says, pulling the front door open.

"Jane!" Maura pulls Jane back by the elbow, and presses their lips together. When they part, Maura's eyes are blazing with an intense and ferocious love. "Come back to me."

Jane holds onto her hand for a second longer than she has to. "Call Tommy to be with the kids and then come," she says. "As soon as you can, Maura."

And then she is gone, sprinting down the stairs in her sweatpants, pulling her hair back as she goes, and Maura turns into the house, heart racing. She races up the stairs and finds her phone on the nightstand.

"Frost," Barry's sleepy voice answers on the third ring.

"Barry," Maura says, and she can see him in her mind's eye, sitting up straight at her tone.

"Maura? What? What is it?" He is alert right away.

Maura takes a breath.

"Jane needs help."