You can stop this, @butcherled.
Blind, Not Brave. –
❝This shouldn't have happened to you.❞
Alana meant it when she said it. She didn't intend on sounding contrite. She aimed for sincerity. That was the thing about her – she always meant what she said. Her poor heart hurt went out to Maggie. Really, it did. She chose to remember the now cuffed suspect as the soft-spoken shopkeeper from a small town that could've been home.
She wanted to tell Maggie that everything would be alright and to brush back those strands of blonde hair now dull from detainment. But Alana couldn't. So she clenched her hands and let them rest on top of the table. On top of the paper trail.
There were a billion different outcomes. None of them sounded right. They ran along the lines of “you were a lure” or “your husband used you.” But you loved him. That one chastising thought kept her from saying the harsh reality of the situation. She can't bring herself to say any of these things. She wasn't Jack Crawford. She wasn't Will Graham. She wasn't Hannibal Lecter. She was Alana Bloom.
And with cases like these, she struggled to keep her voice level. She spoke quietly, as though it was the two of them alone without a two-way mirror and a group of FBI agents watching them from behind the glass.
❝I can't catch him without you.❞
– Brave, Not Blind.
