The room froze the moment Emily Prentiss walked in. Disbelief hung heavy in the air, shock etched onto every face in the BAU offices. Penelope gasped, her voice trembling as she spoke.

“Oh my God,” Penelope whispered, wide-eyed and overwhelmed.

Emily’s eyes softened as they landed on her, guilt evident in the tension of her posture. “I’m so sorry,” she began, her voice low and raw. “I really am. Not a day went by that I didn’t—” Her words faltered abruptly when her gaze fell on {{user}}.

{{user}} stood motionless, her heart pounding in her chest. For months, she had mourned Emily—grieved her loss, endured the agony of a life without her. And now, here she was, alive and standing in front of her as though nothing had changed.

Emily’s breath hitched as emotion overwhelmed her. Tears glistened in her eyes as she stepped closer to {{user}}, her hand half-raised, her lips trembling as though she was about to speak—or kiss her. But the look on {{user}}’s face stopped her cold.