Jo couldn't believe what just happened. Seconds ago, she was desperately trying to save Henry's life; trying to convince him he would be okay. Now, as she sat on the floor in what should have been a puddle of blood, disbelief coursed through her veins. Henry had vanished like a ghost - being there one moment, and gone the next. All the blood she had on her hands had vanished too. It was as if no one had ever been there; as if she had imagined the entire things.

Her eyes searched the room, as if he could have gotten up and moved somewhere else. No, that's ridiculous, she thought. Looking back down at her empty lap, emotions tumbled inside her like an avalanche. Maybe she had hallucinated the entire event? Jo knew the killer had drugged her before, so maybe this was just part of the torture. Anger surged through her heart. How could someone be so cruel as to make her watch Henry die, even if it wasn't real?

Suddenly, she felt something warm on her leg. It felt kind of odd, like she had gotten her pant leg in something hot and sticky. Looking down, Jo's eyes widened at the sight. The blood that had disappeared was back. Upon further inspection, she realized it wasn't Henry's blood, but the blood of the killer. Michael lay face down on the floor, with blood pouring from his stomach. From the look in his eye, Jo knew he was dead. Relief flooded through her, only to be blocked by something else. If Henry and the killer had fought, and ended up shooting one another, maybe what she witnessed was real. Henry had died in her arms, and he had disappeared there too.

Jo began quickly moving away from the body, and to the wall adjacent to it. Her own body began to shake, as the gravity of what happened settled upon her. She had gotten what she asked for: freedom from the killer. Yet, it had cost her the one person whom she cared about the most. Now, she was back to being alone in the world, and it scared her far more than the death she faced a few hours ago.

Hanson had heard the shots right away, and sprang into action. The men from the squad cars rushed the warehouse, guarding entrances and clearing rooms. It didn't take long for the entire warehouse to be cleared, apart from the third floor. He decided to go ahead of the other officers, hoping to stop whatever was going on before it was too late. The sound of sobs gave away the location of where he was most needed. Walking carefully into the room, Hanson took in the sight before him.

A man lying face down in what looked to be his own blood, and Jo Martinez, huddled up against the wall, crying. The murder weapon lay just a foot or so away from the dead man - who he suspected was Michael. Walking over to Jo, he knelt down and tried his best to calm her down.

"It's okay, Jo," He said gently, trying not to frighten her.

She looked up at his with eye wild with fear. Her voice caught in her throat for a moment, before she was able to speak. "No, it's not."

Hanson was shocked to see the condition Jo was in. He had never seen her so vulnerable. The fear in her eyes caused her to look like a scared child, who only wanted the simple comfort of their mother and father. Silence fell between them as Jo looked up at him, and he was at a loss of what to do. Thankfully, the medics had arrived and ushered him out of the way, so they could check her out. This gave him time to examine the crime scene.

There wasn't much to the room itself. A few chairs, the murder weapon (he presumed), and Michael. From the looks of things, Jo was the one who shot the man. It explained her demeanor. Hanson remembered the first time she killed a man. She hadn't reacted well. They would know for sure what happened, once Henry and Lucas did the autopsy.

Henry.

Hanson looked around the room, surprised. Certainly, it wouldn't have taken him long to find Jo, and make sure she was all right. He would have bet any amount of money Henry would be right here, sitting next her and watching over her. Looking back over at Jo, he smiled softly.

"Hey, Jo," He said, kneeling down in front of her. "Where's Henry?"

The panic in her eyes surprised him. "He-Henry?" She stuttered.

"Yeah; where is he? He came in about 15 minutes or so before I did."

Jo hesitated slightly, before answering weakly. "I don't know."

Seeing she was obviously still upset, Hanson decided not to push her. Wherever Henry had wandered off to, he was sure there was a good reason for it. He would find out the reason soon enough, he thought. Now was the time to focus on getting Jo out of this miserable place, and putting this whole thing to rest.

"Hey, Jo; where's Henry?"

His name caused the panic in her heart to grow wider. Where was Henry? Jo couldn't very well tell Hanson he had simply disappeared. Oh, yeah, Henry died and then vanished. That would go over well. She was certain he already thought she lost her senses; no need to add fuel to the fire.

"He - Henry?" She stuttered, trying and failing to sound calm.

"Yeah; where is he? He came in 15 minutes or so before I did."

Jo hesitated again, searching for an answer in her mind. Lying to Hanson wasn't going to sit well in her conscious, but the truth was too crazy to utter. Something occurred to her, then. She had known where Henry was, when he was with her in this very room. But when he disappeared, his whereabouts became just as much a mystery to her, as it was the Hanson. So, she gave the only answer she could.

"I don't know."

Thankfully, Hanson didn't push the subject. Relief flooded over Jo, as she realized she had more time to figure this whole thing out. The medics had told her she would need to be seen at the hospital; standard procedure. She knew the procedure quite well, from watching victims being wheeled into the ambulance. But being a victim herself didn't sit well. Jo needed to be out, searching for her dead friend; not sitting in a hospital room, counting the ceiling tiles.

As they moved her out of the room, and down to the ambulance, an idea popped into her head. It was a crazy idea, and she was certain he would think so, but what other choice did she have? Jo decided right then and there; once she was alone in the hospital, she would call the one man who might be able to help her.

Abe.