"Oh, how the mighty have fallen," sang Officer Garcia from the other side of the glass, with a sanctimonious grin smeared across his face to accompany his facade of fake concern.

"Don't you have somewhere to be, Garcia?" barked the Commissioner.

"Just waitin' to see if you do the right thing."

"And what's that supposed to mean?"

"Guy's a disgrace to the force, he's makin' us all look bad and you know it."

"Let me worry about how it's making us look, okay?"

"Fine. But he ain't one of us," warned Garcia as he walked away. "He might've been a great detective back in his day, but he ain't no more. Man's got nothin' left."

The Commissioner stood there alone in the hallway, watching the two inside the interrogation room as they continued to talk.

"Seguerra, I have to know," April leaned slightly across the table as she pleaded. "Will you accept the offer?"

"I don't need rehab," he growled back.

"Then they'll put you in prison. That's the last thing I wanna see for you. Seguerra, please."

"I'll win in court. No jury is gonna fault a man for wanting to protect his family."

Seguerra lit his cigarette in a quick motion, he savored the first pull, then let the smoke rise from his lips.

April turned to look at the one-way glass. Though her gaze only met her own reflection, she knew the Commissioner was there on the other side hearing the same thing. Though her hands could not reach his, April opened her palms and welcomed Angel to accept them. But she could not find the proper words to say to him.

"Seguerra... it's time for you to stop saying that."

"Saying what, Ms. Nguyen?"

"Seguerra, your family has been dead for over three years now."

"And where the hell did you get that idea? I was just at my ex-wife's house this afternoon. Everybody saw it."

"I don't know what you saw, but that woman is not your ex-wife. That child is not yours. Seguerra, you have to listen to me."

"I don't have to do a thing!" He slammed his fist against the table so hard that it nearly toppled over. He tried to calm himself by taking another puff, but his lips were trembling too much to hold the cigarette in place.

"Seguerra," she softly whispered. "I won't pretend to understand what it's like for you, but you can't keep living like this. Seeing ghosts."

She cupped the side of her face with her hand, letting her narrow pinky finger sit on the corner of her mouth as she glanced at the floor. "I still see Sam in my dreams at times. That's why, Seguerra. I won't pretend to know exactly how it feels, but I think I understand a little."

"'Seeing ghosts,' huh? You don't understand a thing."

April shot a defensive glare at Seguerra, before rolling her eyes and sliding back in her chair. "Gee, thanks for that."

"Victor Kim," he flatly stated. "You need to find him."

"Victor Kim? The inventor?"

"Yes, he was one of my earlier cases."

"The apparent suicide of Nancy Kim."

"Only Victor never believed it was fair to call it a suicide. He wanted those he deemed responsible to be held responsible for his daughter's death. But of course, there was nothing we could do. The last time I saw Victor, he vowed to make me understand the same pain. And he was successful. Every night, I return to that accident. The same dream. The same movie I had seen over and over again, and the ending never changed. I reach my hand out, the wreckage is still smoldering. I put my other hand on my radio. I put it down and pick up a flashlight. I don't know why, but I see something— a trail of blood trickling from the bottom. So, I follow it. Until finally, I see it. And suddenly, I knew what I dreamed wasn't a dream. Because there it was, what I had seen, crawling on its stomach to me, this mass of bloody flesh with its arms bent in the wrong direction, and the bones in its legs barely clinging to the tendons. The lips had peeled off its face. The cheeks were sullen and red and purple, and the eyes were trembling brown dots and the rest was all white. It looked up at me. It tried to speak. But it might as well have been in a language I'd never even heard before. And—"

"Seguerra, you're not making any sense. What did you see!"

"A family of three, an adult and child burned beyond recognition in the back seat, and a man behind the steering wheel. That man was me."

April's eyes shot wide.

"I don't expect anyone to believe me. I never told anyone until now. I ended my life the night my wife decided to kill herself. It makes no sense to me why I'm still here. Or why I remember certain things from the past, but others don't. But I've got a feeling Victor knows."

"Seguerra, I— "I don't know what's happened to you. I want to believe you, but—"

"You don't have to believe me. I'm asking you to do your job. Do you think Victor is going to stop with me?"

"Seguerra, the last time anyone saw Victor Kim, he was in a homeless shelter receiving treatment for drug addiction. He isn't a threat to anyone but himself now."

"Don't tell me you believe that?"

"There's nothing to believe, Seguerra! It's true. It's all documented. His ex-wife hasn't seen him, his ex-business partners haven't seen him. The guilt over the loss of his daughter drove him insane, Seguerra. And that is what I believe is happening to you. You may have wanted to take your own life, but you didn't, you're still here, and you have to live with that fact every day. But instead of making peace with it, you've built up this imaginary case in your head just so you don't have to face the fact that they're gone! They're gone, and you're here!"

She abruptly stood up from the table. As she began to turn for the door, Seguerra said, "Mr. Kim was arrested for assaulting his business partner with a gun because he blamed him partly for the death of his daughter. If I'm Victor and I still wanted revenge, it wouldn't be hard to guess where I'd go next."

April shook her head and sighed.

"That case is over, Seguerra. You closed it yourself. Until you accept that, I can't help you. I'm sorry."