❝you're in danger here, spencer.❞
❝we'll worry about that later. right now all that matters is you and me.❞
hazel finley is afraid. afraid of being alone. afraid of losing the people she loves. afraid of making mistakes. afraid of falling back into...
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❝Wasn't that the definition of home? Not where you are from, but where you are wanted.❞
ABRAHAM VERGHESE
✩
2.4 : oxygen
THE CONFERENCE ROOM FEELS AS THOUGH ALL THE AIR HAS BEEN SUCKED OUT OF IT. Fin struggles to get a deep breath. It feels like there is a ton of concrete resting on her chest. Spencer squeezes her hand gently. Every eye is upon her.
Dropping her shoulders, she swallows hard and does the hardest thing imaginable: She begins. "My name is not Hazel Finley. Or at least, it hasn't always been. It used to be Hazel Cameron, but I was entered into Witness Protection when I was fourteen because my father and brother were murdered by the Mercy Killer."
Penelope gasps, shaking hand pressed to her mouth, her other hand gripping Morgan's bicep tightly. No one says a word, so Fin keeps going.
"That's the reason I became a profiler, to help other people who were in the situation I'd been in. It's the reason I'm standing here right now. I never thought I'd have to talk about it again. But–" Fin's hand shakes in Spencer's, and he squeezes tightly– "three years ago, she was paroled. And last year, she murdered my ex-boyfriend and my landlady."
"What the hell?" Morgan's brows furrow darkly. "We've been keeping tabs on the Mercy Killer since she was paroled! How did I not know she was active again?"
Fin swallows hard, looks at Hotch, who crosses his arms defensively and replies, "Certain information has been withheld for confidentiality reasons."
"What the hell does that mean?" Morgan demands, vitriol coating his voice.
"Derek," Fin says quietly. "It's not his fault. It's mine."
Morgan's head whips back toward her, expression confused.
Another deep breath, no easier than the last. "Esther Hayward is my mother. She was tried under her maiden name. Thirteen years ago, she was Esther Cameron. I still don't know why she changed her name back."
If there was any oxygen in the room before, it's gone now. Everyone sucks in a breath, unsure of how to react. Penelope is already crying. Fin refuses to look at her, but she can hear the muffled sobs, the shaky breaths.
"Gideon and I consulted on that case," Rossi says quietly. "It was one of the last before I retired. The local P.D. had it mostly sewn up, but I went and testified based on the files I'd read. I remember hearing later that the nail in the coffin was the testimony of her two...young...daughters." As he says these last three words, his eyes slowly cut to Fin, a shadow of recognition crossing his face. The look in his eyes is enough to make her own eyes burn. She looks away.
