"Sara, you need to tell me who it is," Nick grabbed her as she started to walk away. She turned back and had tears in her eyes. This was not usual for her at all, and Nick was becoming more and more concerned.
"No, Nick," she walked off down the road and he let her go. Watching her back he took out his phone to call D.B. but decided against it. He would wait for a while and then see if she came back. No reason to get anyone worried just yet, maybe Sara just needed some space. Shaking his head he returned to the scene. David didn't question the situation.
Nick started to process the scene as David took the body. Pictures, samples, a stack of letters…one to Sara. It was just a folded piece of paper. No in an envelope or finished. He began to read it. He didn't want to invade her privacy but the more he thought about the situation, he had no idea what was going on, she wouldn't respond to his phone calls.
"Dear Sara, I've been here the whole time and you never knew. None of you could know or they would have taken me away. They took you away, I know that, but I'd have been locked up. What happened in that house that night, with Laura, your brother Alex, and your uncle James, it was all so long ago. That night I made decisions that were wrong, I made decisions that were wrong for all of us…."
Nick stopped reading. His decision to start not felt wrong and he put the letter in an evidence bag. A few hours later when he'd finished processing he called Sara. He sat in his truck and waited for her to pick up.
-Sara kept walking and walking. If she stopped then she would have to face the reality of the situation. She was going insane. It can't be him. I buried that part of me so long ago. It's not him. He's dead. He is dead.
She told herself over and over again. She couldn't win. Either she was crazy or they'd all been wrong, for all of these years. That part of her didn't exist anymore, but so easily it could be brought back up. That was something Sara never wanted to happen. It would hurt her, the people she loved. That was not fair.
The air she breathed didn't want to leave her chest and the streets surrounding her span like the world had changed pace without notifying her. Her hands shook as she clenched her fists trying to contain her emotions. She's dealt with victims, she dealt with victims every day. And Sara Grissom was not a victim. She'd tried her entire life to not be a victim. The labels stuck with her though, abusive house, father killed, mother unstable, kid in care. Those labels opened you up to pity.
Her phone rang. She picked up.
"Sara, thank god," Nicks voice was breathless, "are you ok?"
"Yes,"
"Where are you? Do you need a lift?"
"I'm….," she looked around, not realising how far she'd walked, "I'm about 4 miles away, on East Hamilton street, up by that Chinese restaurant Brass likes."
"Ok," he replied and began to drive.
When he got to her she was sitting on a bench, looking at the ground and picking at her nails. She looked up as he pulled the car near to her. Getting in the car Nick handed her her jacket which she'd left at the crime scene.
He didn't want to push her for an answer, but the CSI inside of him persisted, "Sara, who was it?"
"The thing is Nick, you're going to call me crazy,"
"I promise you I won't,"
"Well I'm either crazy or something very wrong happened a long time ago," she sighed and rolled down her window.
Nick thought carefully about how to proceed, "Sara, you're not going crazy, just tell me who you think it is, we can deal with it from there on, but if you don't tell me I can't help you."
She inhaled deeply, "I think that was my father."