(no subject)

Sara's pulled out of a fitful sleep by the ringing of her phone.

"Hello?"

Ms. Sidle, I don't know if you remember me. I'm Christopher Adler-Pam's husband?

Pamela Adler-woman raped and shot twice in the head by a teen as part of a gang initiation. A woman left virtually brain dead, but stabilized.

"Yes, I remember you, Mr. Adler. How are you?"

God, can you be more asinine, Sara?

I'm doing-okay, considering things. Pamela passed away late last night. You fought so hard for her...I thought I would let you know. You were the only one seeing her as a person and not a victim.

His voice breaks, choking on a sob.

Mr. Adler, she was a victim. But she's not suffering any more.

"I'm so sorry, Mr. Adler. Is there anything I can do?"

No, everything's taken care of. She wanted a cremation and I'm taking the urn back to her family home in Iowa.

His voice has steadied, but the grief is still there beneath the surface.

"Thank you for letting me know." She feels numb.

No-thank you for not forgetting her. Goodbye Ms. Sidle. I'll never forget all you did for Pam.

The phone clicks.

Sara slumps back on her bed, her eyes burning.

(no subject)

Though still feeling sad, Sara feels that she can cope with Pam's death a little better now.

It helped that a very nice turtle brought her hot chocolate and made her laugh.

It was also nice to not speak about what troubled her with Ace. Simple conversation greatly helps.

But Barry...has proven an unexpected source of comfort. One Sara is quickly coming to trust.

What do I make of that?