POLICE STATION, BRENT TAYLOR'S OFFICE

Brent doesn't even look up from the mess of papers spread over the desk in front of him. "Come in!"

He continues scribbling a few final notes as he listens to the door open and someone enter.

"Are you busy?" the visitor asks.

Brent's eyes pop up from the desk immediately. "Oh, uh, hi. No, I'm not -- sit down."

He watches Molly carefully as he settles into a chair across the desk from him.

"So what's up?" he asks, still observing her. Her whole demeanor screams 'serious,' and it has him on edge.

"Nothing much," she says. "We just hadn't talked in awhile, so I thought I'd come by and see how you were doing. And if everything is all right."

"I'm fine ... What do you mean, see if everything is all right?"

"With us." She says it quickly and then pauses, her eyes shifting around uncomfortably.

"Yeah, of course." He leans forward, propping up his elbows on the desk. "Everything's fine, Molly. I know we haven't talked much lately, but I was just trying to ... give everyone some space. This was a time for your family to get themselves together -- there wasn't any need to for me to be poking around."

"You were needed."

Her comment hangs between them for a moment until Brent speaks up. "So how's everything going? How's everybody doing?"

"Better, I guess," she says. "We're all kind of trying to get back to normal, but it's ... weird. It's hard."

"I know. Because it's like the whole dynamic changes."

"Yeah. It's not like I saw Tim everyday, but ... he was my brother. There were things I had with him -- memories, in-jokes, you know -- that I don't have with anyone else. And it feels really strange for that to just suddenly be gone."

"I bet." Now Brent leans back in his chair, folding his hands in front of his stomach and gazing up at the ceiling. "When my mom died -- it was different, I mean, it wasn't unexpected, but ..." He trails off without taking the thought much of anywhere and continues staring at the ceiling in silence.

"I can't even imagine what it would be like to lose one of my parents. Especially if I were as young as you were when your mom died." Now it is her turn to watch him, and she does it for almost a minute. Neither of them speak.

Finally Molly says, "I'm sorry. I come in here talking about Tim without even thinking about you losing your mom--"

Brent brings his gaze back to her. "Don't worry about it, Mol."

They fall quiet again. Finally Molly says, "It's been hard on everyone, I know, but it's almost like I want to put it behind us. I don't know if that sounds awful, but ..."

"It doesn't sound awful. It makes sense. No one wants to go on mourning forever."

"No, I guess not. But my parents -- my mom, especially -- are having a really hard time. They don't talk about anything else, or at least not for long. Jason's still hardly talking about it at all. And Sarah--" She stops herself.

"How's Sarah doing?" Brent asks quietly.

Molly is caught off-guard by this question. "She's been even more distant with us. I'm sure she's told you all about it. She keeps turning everything around on us. I don't know if it's her way of coping or what, but she's being really hard on everyone."

"She hasn't told me anything," he says.

"Really? But I thought--" The words are coming more quickly than Molly can make sense of them, and she has to pause. "I thought you two were doing better. You sat with her at the memorial service, and ... I saw you trying to comfort her after we found out about Tim."

"You did?"

"Yeah. And I just assumed -- I mean, it looked like ... like things were going better between the two of you."

Brent shrugs. He twirls the pen in-between his fingers for a moment and then looks up at her. "There's something you need to know, Molly."

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