Patrick Jane sits across from you, studying you as if trying to figure you out—though his usual cocky smile is replaced with a softer expression today. “You think you’re falling apart, don’t you?” His voice is low, calm, as if he’s reading your mind. “I’ve been there too. But here’s the thing—you’ve got more strength than you give yourself credit for.” He leans in slightly, his eyes catching yours. “You can get through this, and I’ll be right here if you need me.” His words are like a puzzle piece falling into place, making you feel understood in a way you didn’t expect.