Horatio smiled at the guard as he entered the evidence storage room. He didn't have to look up the location of his brother's case. He'd just got off the phone with Chaz's parole officer. Chaz had been released for good behavior a month earlier. He'd missed his last appointment. The police were out looking for him right now.

Horatio opened the box and sifted through it until he found what he was looking for. The single bullet that had changed his life. The bullet that had killed his brother. A hunch had brought him here again, a hunch and a prayer for closure.

He resealed the box, signed the bullet out and went in search of Calleigh. He knew she was finishing up on the other case, and though Aaron was working on the motel shooting, this was about his brother and he couldn't trust it to anyone but Calleigh.

She looked tired, he thought when he saw her in the break room. The Oxley case had been hard on her and he'd been too preoccupied with his brother to focus on her. Watching her now, he regretted it. Calleigh was his wife, she'd needed him and he'd been busy. He hugged her from behind.

"Hey."

She relaxed into him. "Hey, handsome. I've been looking for you."

"I'm sorry."

His tone gave him away. She turned around and looked up at him. "What's wrong?"

"Raymond." He didn't need to say more.

"I should've guessed. I'm sorry I've been so focused on this other case—"

He pressed a finger to her lips. "It's me who's sorry."

Calleigh smiled. "You have nothing to apologize for. I know how you feel about Ray's death."

"That's actually why I'm here." He held out the bullet. "Will you run this against the bullets from my case?"

She didn't ask why he hadn't had Aaron do it. "Do you want me to test the guns as well?"

"Please."

"Okay. But you have to cook dinner tonight."

He pulled her close. "Thank you. I'll explain everything when you get home. I have so much to tell you."

Calleigh kissed him. "I love you."

Calleigh was sitting in her doctor's waiting room when her cell phone rang. "Calleigh Caine."

"Hi." It was Nadia.

"Hey, is everything okay?"

"Yeah. I just . . . I wanted to thank you for what you did. I appreciate it. I had a long conversation with my mom when I got home and . . . well, I've agreed to get some counseling."

"I'm glad."

"Well, anyway, thanks."

"Nadia, if you ever need to talk, you know where to find me."

"Sure."

Calleigh hung up. There were pamphlets about pregnancy on the table next to her. She picked one up. In it was a picture of a fetus at twelve weeks old.

Adrienne's baby had been twelve weeks old when it died. Calleigh put the pamphlet down. Adrienne's last diary entry had been June 6. No one would ever know what had happened in the three weeks between then and the abortion that had made her change her mind. Calleigh wondered if Adrienne would have still gone through with it if she'd known how things would turn out.

"Mrs. Caine." The receptionist smiled at Calleigh. "Dr. Hunt is ready to see you."

Horatio stood in front of his brother's headstone. He exhaled, a deep, sad sigh and sank to his haunches.

"Oh, Ray . . . what were you thinking?"

He had come here so many times over the years, first to his parents' graves, then to his brother's. For the first few months after Raymond's death, he hadn't been able to come. He'd been too hurt, too angry . . . too emotional to be here. Raymond's death felt like his failure; he should have protected him, he should have been a better brother, he should tried harder when they were growing up . . .

And all the while, he knew that it wasn't really his fault. Raymond had lived his own life and had made his own choices. Horatio had just come to terms with the drugs, and now there was Suzie and Madison.

He was going to tell Calleigh tonight. For so long, he'd kept everything to himself, it had been easy to continue even though she was in his life. Maybe she would help him come to some kind of decision. He knew one thing with absolute certainty though: he would not let Madison live with strangers.

"You always did know how to complicate things, Ray."

Horatio stood. He had to leave if he wanted to make it home before Calleigh, especially since he'd agreed to cook for her.

His thoughts were on his brother as he drove home. By the time he pulled into the driveway, he felt a strange sort of peace. It was time to let go of Raymond's ghost.

Calleigh lay on the couch, her bare feet dangling over the edge. Horatio's breath caught in his throat, and he was barely able to get her name out. He would never get past coming home and finding her dying on the couch. "Cal?"

"Hey."

"Is everything okay?" He could breathe again.

She sat up and smiled at him over the couch. "Yeah. I went to the doctor today."

"Oh?" The worry crept in again.

"Relax, it was just a checkup. This case has just had me thinking."

It's Calleigh-time, Horatio thought. Focus. "About babies?"

"Yeah. I guess."

Horatio sat next to her, smiling when she curled into him. "We've never talked about kids before."

"Should we have? We've only been married for two weeks!" There was an edge to her laugh.

"So . . . the checkup?"

Calleigh's hand moved to her belly. "I had a couple of questions. I wasn't sure if I could still fall pregnant after . . . my injury. Everything's fine, though. Dr. Hunt says there's no reason I shouldn't be able to fall pregnant . . . one day, in the future . . ." She smiled. "I was just being stupid."

"No, you weren't. You needed to know if there was a chance of problems . . . one day, in the future."

Her laugh came easily. "So you do want kids?"

"Only with you."

She kissed him, then stood. "I have something for you."

She picked up an envelope from the coffee table and handed it to him. He opened it and laid out the photographs.

"I ran all the tests you asked for. The bullet matched the gun belonging to Robert Keaton."

Horatio felt like he'd been kicked in the gut. "Keaton killed Raymond."

"I'm sorry."

"It's over . . . You know, I've thought about this moment a thousand times. I always thought I'd be able to look Raymond's killer in the eyes . . . It's over."

Calleigh squeezed his hand. "The pain never completely goes away. It's part of who you are."

Horatio pulled her onto his lap and held her for a moment. "I need to tell you what's been on my mind lately. It's about Raymond and Suzie Barnham, and a little girl called Madison . . ."

Madison let go of Yelina's hand and approached her mother. She was just as Yelina had said – like Sleeping Beauty. Only, Madison didn't think Sleeping Beauty'd had a bandage around her head and hundreds of tubes sticking out of her.

She looked at all the machines. Some of the lines were jagged and others were flat. There was a beeping noise that Madison didn't really like, but Yelina had explained on the way here that though Mommy might look scary, all of the machines were helping her stay alive.

Madison hoped that she would never be this sick. The hospital smelled funny, and there were too many people here.

She pushed the chair closer to the bed and climbed onto it, taking her mother's hand. She frowned at the needle in Suzie's hand. Madison didn't like needles.

"Hi, Mommy. I'm sorry I didn't come visit before. I missed you. Yelina says you're going to sleep for a long time, so I guess you didn't miss me. I get to stay with Yelina and Ray – he's my friend. He let me play with him."

Madison lowered her voice. "I know Daddy's in heaven now and he can't kiss you better, but I really, really, really hope you wake up soon. 'Cause Yelina's nice, but I miss you."

She bent and kissed her mother's brow. "I love you, Mommy."

Nadia sat on the beach as the day drew to a close around her. She watched the tide come in, and for once the crash of the waves felt liberating instead of stifling. She took a deep breath of the salt air as a raindrop landed on her nose. She looked up at the sky. More rain fell. Nadia stayed exactly where she was. The rain on her cheeks mingled with her tears.

She couldn't stop thinking of her last conversation with Adrienne, and how this was all her fault. "What are your parents going to say?"

Adrienne shrugged. "I'm going to tell the truth. They'll understand."

"What if they don't believe you?" She could see Adrienne hadn't considered that possibility. "He's a respectable doctor, you're just a schoolkid. They'll think it's Doug's."

"Nadia, I—"

She put her arm around Adrienne's shoulders, hating herself more than she ever had. She wanted to explain, wanted to say no one had believed her, that her mother had called her a slut and told her to stop spreading lies about her Uncle James. She said instead, "It's better this way."

She was wrong, and her friend had paid the price. She hugged her knees to her chest, hiding her face, and wept for Adrienne.

She wept for the baby, who'd never even had a chance.

She cried for herself.

And the rain kept falling, cleansing and healing.

The end.

Coming soon to an inbox near you: Still Life. "I swear I left her by the river, I swear I left her safe and sound . . ." (Richard Marx, "Hazard")