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Dana clung to Claire,pulling her tight against her chest. The girl’s hands were clamped over her ears as she screamed, unable to block out the sound of gunfire.

She’d known it was Max. She’d known the moment she’d seen Dana come down the stairs, her face filled with fear. She hadn’t asked Dana to confirm it, following her to the bathroom silently.

They locked themselves inside, standing in the bathtub.

Dana did her best to hold onto the girl who was breaking apart in her arms. “It’s okay. It’s okay.” Dana repeated the phrase over and over, unsure who she was trying to convince. “It’s okay. It’s over now.”

Yellow police tapeguttered in the wind, marking the perimeter of last night’s deadly shooting. Agents and officers turned in their discharged weapons and began the daunting procedure of filling out weapon discharge forms. Ambulances stood stoically silent, their medics inside the farmhouse offering counseling to those still reeling from shock.

Claire refused treatment, though she was the one perhaps most in need. Especially after learning about Max’s self-inflicted injuries prior to the shooting.

Once the gunfire had ceased, Claire bolted from the bathroom. Dana and the other officers had done everything they could to restrain her, but hanging onto the wiry girl was difficult. Dana’s arms bore scratches and bruises as proof. In the end, it was only Jake who could subdue her.

Dana watched him whisper something in her ear, then she collapsed into his arms, folding in on herself like a paper doll as she dissolved into hysterical wailing. Claire remained in the spot where she’d collapsed just outside the front door of the farmhouse. Dana remained there, too. Kneeling by her side despite the ache in her knees.

She’s lost track of how long they’d been there. Long enough for the stars in night sky to dissolve into the twilight glow of dawn. She shivered, feeling every creak in the old wooden floorboards of the farmhouse porch as first responders, officers, and agents bustled by. Despite the foil blanket the EMTs had draped around her and Claire, she couldn’t escape the chill that settled in her bones.

But Dana silently vowed to stay where she was for as long as it took. She owed Claire that much for ever doubting her. First Dvita, then Claire. Dana had been wrong again. It made her question everything. Most of all, her ability to continue helping the FBI.

Jake sauntered over, hiding his exhaustion behind his Fed persona. It only slipped when he reached Dana and Claire. “We can head home now,” he said quietly, reaching down to help them up. Dana took his hand, her own feeling small and cold beneath Jake’s rough calloused warmth. Claire, however, remained crumbled on the floor, her legs tucked under her at awkward angles, like a newborn fawn unfamiliar with the lanky appendages.

Stooping, Jake scooped Claire into his arms. She looked hollow, brittle almost—like the stiff breeze swelling across the farmland would tear her apart as though she were made of ash. Dana understood the feeling. Losing someone so suddenly and brutally was a burden the soul wasn’t equipped for. And Claire had been through it more than enough times.

Again, guilt lanced through Dana. Of course Claire was different now. It would be impossible not to be after all she’d witnessed in the past year. Dana herself had to admit that the past few years of terrifying FBI cases had changed her, too. And possibly, not for the better.

Yes, she was stronger now, and liberated by the truths she’d uncovered about her past. But it had come at a price. She’d shot someone, been shot, taken lives … it was a different burden than what she’d carried before, but a heavy one all the same.

Her mind suddenly went to Lennox, the young cop who’d fired the first shot tonight. “What’s going to happen to Lennox?” she asked Jake once he’d tucked Claire into the safety of his backseat.

Jake didn’t answer until they were through the police blockade swarming with press. He finally said, “He’ll face Metro’s firearms discharge review board; beyond that, I don’t know.”

Dana glanced back to check on Claire. She was lying on her side, facing them, eyes closed, finally getting some much-needed sleep. Dana turned up the radio, letting the melancholy sound of R.E.M.’s Everybody Hurts drown out her words as she spoke quietly to Jake. “I couldn’t see anything from the bathroom. Was the gunfire warranted?”

Jake exhaled slowly, his jaw muscles ticking. Dana watched him glance in the review at Claire before answering. “From where I was, no.”

“I could hear Hartwell. He gave Max plenty of time to surrender.”

“I know,” Jake said. “But suicide by cop is an efficient and selfish method too many criminals choose.”

Another question rested at the tip of her tongue. She wanted to know what Jake had said to Claire in the aftermath to calm her down, but she decided to wait until they were alone. Instead, she asked, “What happens now?”

“Now we all get some sleep.”

Dana continued to gaze at him, until he gave her a real answer.

He sighed, rubbing the fatigue from his face at a stoplight. “Hartwell and Richter will finish up the investigation. Once all the evidence has been examined and cataloged, and the review board rules on the discharged weapons, they can close the case.”

“How long will that take?”

Jake shrugged. “There’s a lot of paperwork, and the media isn’t going to let this go quietly.” Jake glanced at Claire in the review again, his jaw still ticking with agitation.

“What are you thinking?” Dana asked, seeing the concern on his face.

“Maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad idea to get out of town for a bit.”

“Is that allowed?” Dana asked.

Jake cut a glare at her, keeping his voice low. “She’s not a suspect.”

“I know that,” Dana whispered. “I’m the first to admit I was wrong. This case …” she shook her head. “It was different from the others. And I can’t shake this feeling that it’s unresolved somehow.” Sighing, she added. “I don’t know. Maybe you’re right. A change of scenery would help clear our heads.”

“We have been staring at the same four walls for a while now. I know I could use some fresh air.”

“What were you thinking?” she asked.

“The cabin is great this time of year.”

A mix of emotions crashed over Dana at the mention of Jake’s cabin. They’d been through so much there; good, and bad. But it was a flush of warm memories that filled her cheeks when she responded. “The cabin sounds perfect.”

Jake reached over and took her hand from her lap. He threaded his fingers through hers, settling them on the console between them. “I was hoping you’d say that.”

His grin melted the last bit of cold still clinging to her bones, and she couldn’t help but smile back. “There’s something I need to take care of first.”