DISCLAIMER: Don't own 'em. Ready, willing and able to stage a coup.

FEEDBACK: Always (please read note)

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is extremely short - almost a "drabble." (100 word fic). It's also intentionally vague; I like to do that every so often - grin. I had this thought running around my head about Emily's death and this was the result.


Garret cradled the receiver and sat back in his chair. How could he do this without hurting her beyond repair? He opened a desk drawer. Years ago, Max had given him an envelope to keep, to open only when Max was dead. It had seemed so cliché that Garret had agreed. He should have known it would come back to bite him in the ass.

He opened the envelope and read.

Dear Jordan,

I made a promise to your mother and I've kept that promise all these years, but it's time you knew the truth. Just remember that no matter what else, she loved you.

Your mother's religion was a source of great comfort to her, but when mixed with the instability she couldn't escape, it often became an instrument of torture. At the end of her life, she solved that problem the only way she thought she could….

Garret finished it, his mind whirling.


Jordan looked up. "Hey, Garret." She noticed his lugubrious expression. "Who died?"

"Jordan, I need to talk to you."

"Sure…. What's up?"

He sat down. "I have some news. Answers."