Henry didn't step out of line again for the rest of the interview, and Jo was quiet as they left the prison.

He didn't look different. As he breathed in the air and straightened his scarf with a faint smile as he looked around, she would say he was unconcerned. But she had been watching him. She saw the past in his eyes when Warsaw had talked about Lucy being his heart.

"Talk to me, Henry."

"I am sorry, Detective?"

"What are you thinking about? Why are you so quick to take Warsaw's side?"

He breathed in, straightening in the passenger's seat. "I believe that everyone has the right to an unbiased-"

"Oh no. This isn't about bias. You heard white picket fence and notes and - Henry. She is gone."

"I know that, Jo."

"Do you?"

"Of course. She had cancer - and that was many years ago."

She raised her eyebrow.

"Look - we can both agree that it would not hurt to look over the evidence again."

She just looked at him.

"I am not too close to this case."

"And the last time you worked on a case you were personally involved in, you ended up killing someone - Henry. It's alright if you can't do this."

"I believe the Lieutenent would disagree."

"Or we could repeat the last case."

Henry had the decency to look away.

Jo sighed, starting up the car. "So. Tell me about your notes."

"My...notes?"

"Yes. Your notes. On Abigail."

"It wasn't like that…"

"It wasn't? You know I could just go ask Abe." she teased.

He rolled his eyes. "After she left, I contacted the police - tried to find someone who would find her and bring her home. They said it was a 'dear John' letter," he couldn't keep the bitterness out of his voice. "They wouldn't look…"

She glanced sideways at him as he trailed off.

"...I always thought she would come back," he picked up again, quiet. "I always thought she would come back - no one should die alone. She had always told me that. I...I always expected her to come back through the door and into our lives."

"...did you ever think maybe it was a 'dear John' letter?" she asked carefully.

"No! No - never. Abigail would never have left me like that. Left Abe like that. She loved us - I know that."

"Do you?"

"Yes," he insisted.

"Because I saw your face, Henry, when Warsaw said that he would rather Lucy have left him for a dentist and a white picket fence than be dead."

"...Abigail would never have done that."

Jo frowned, but Henry had turned to the window, and she let the matter rest. If it was going to be a problem, it would come up again soon.