Sara steps into the arrivals hall of JFK, shell-shocked, barely able to see two feet in front of her. It seems like five minutes ago, she was filling out grad school applications. Now she's in New York, faced with burying her brother, and having to do it alone.

She jumps when she feels a hand on her arm, whirls around, relaxing only when she realises that this stranger is saying her name. "I recognised you from Mike's photos," he's saying, and she winces at her brother's name. "I'm Tony Rodriguez," he continues. "My wife worked with Mike…"

She nods, barely recollecting. "We spoke on the phone."

"Right." He takes her bag, stepping towards the exit. "I thought we'd drop off your bag first… let you wash up…"

She's nodding again, very glad that someone else is thinking about these details. She can only think about how she should have been able to stop this, the guilt choking her, cutting off her voice, so they drive in silence until they arrive at a Brooklyn apartment.

Tony carries her bag inside, dropping it in the hall and leading her into the living room, where a dark-haired, red-eyed woman stands up to greet them. When Tony goes to her, kisses her cheek, Sara realises that this must be Angela, who worked with Mike back when Mike had a job, and she's shocked when she sees that Angela is undoubtedly high.

Sara finds it hard to keep the disgust from her face as Angela hugs her, and maybe Tony sees that too, because he ushers Angela to their bedroom, shaking his head. "I'm sorry," he sighs, sitting down. "She said she wouldn't…"

Sara sighs too, sinking down on the couch beside him. "I know," she says quietly, because how many times had she had that kind of conversation with Mike, how many times had she begged him to stop, to get help? Her parents had given up on him long ago, he'd often told her she was all he had left.

Except that he'd been lying. He'd had heroin, and that had meant more to him than anything.

But she can't escape the guilt, rising up in her throat like bile. "I should have done more," she says, more to herself than Tony. "I should have been able to help him…"

"You couldn't have," comes the reply. "We were here, we saw him every day…" His voice breaks off in disgust. "I'm a Narcotics cop Sara," he continues. "And I can't even help my own wife."

She sees her guilt in his face, and bitter tears come to her eyes. "We're some pair huh?"

She sees him blink in surprise before she buries her head in her hands, her long-suppressed tears finally escaping. She's embarrassed, until she feels his hand on her back, hears his quiet words. "Guess we are."

For the first time since his voice shattered her world, Sara feels better, because she knows she's not alone.