INT. - 9TH PRECINCT BULLPEN to CAFÉ DOM - AFTERNOON

Ray wanted to throw up, all over her mother's polished leather shoes. She would have done so only a short six months ago if not for the friendships she'd renewed, the strength she drew from the presence of the two women who stood, gaping, at Mummy.

As it was, they would never know just how much stability they offered Ray, even not saying a single thing, while her mother watched her with icy, calculating eyes and the ...