You hadn’t spoken a word since the case ended. You just sat in the dark bullpen, jacket still on, fists clenched.

Alex approached quietly, kneeling beside you.

“You reminded me of someone today,” she said, voice soft.

You looked at her, confused. “Who?”

“My son,” she answered, hesitating. “His name was Ethan. He… passed.”

You didn’t know what to say, but her hand found yours.

“But you’re not him,” she added. “You’re you. And I’m glad you’re here.”