She got home from work heartsick and drained and with the vague sense that nothing was going right anymore. There was nothing, nothing, that could save this day from being a complete and absolute misery. Ever since Rossi’s ominous announcement, every day had started to take a numb sort of sadness to it. It wasn’t just her. Smiles had grown rare around the BAU.
She moved on autopilot. Mail and keys onto the cupboard. Kick shoes off. Coat on the rack.
Gideon would have shot her if he’d seen how lax she was about her surroundings.
“You should be more observant,” said a quiet, painfully familiar voice from the couch. “I could have been anyone.”
She stopped. Everything stopped. She couldn’t think. She couldn’t breathe. And she certainly couldn’t turn around, not with the possibility of her
