Doctor: "So you feel guilty about letting it slide?"
Linden: "My partner was the lead, he was my superior, I followed his instincts instead of my own. But I should have listened to him."
Doctor: "To who? Adrian? Because you think this drawing was him giving you the clue? And this is why you're so insane about Rosie Larsen?"
Linden: "They're going to bury the Rosie case, just like I did Adrian's mother's death. Somebody along the line gets weak, or gets talked down by their superior, or just lazy. Somebody breaks the line, and the case gets buried, and justice dies. I did it, so I know."
Doctor: "Is that why the Rosie case matters?"
Linden: "Girl, I told you why Rosie matters. Because it does. That's the only reason you need. I am a detective."

Doctor: "Can we talk about your mother now?"
Linden: "Fuck you. This whole show is a labyrinth about grief. Not me. You're not going to get to the bottom of me and save me. You're not going to solve me. Not even if you need it, desperately, to solve your own life."
Doctor: "Are we talking about you now?"
Linden, verbatim: "No, they're dead. They don't need saving anymore."

Sarah Linden was five years old when her mother left the house to pay the light bill. And she never came back. CPS found Sarah there, the next morning. Just like Adrian.

Linden, verbatim: "That was a long time ago I'm fine now."

Just like Adrian, but just like Mitch too. And Stan. And Tommy and Denny. And Darren Richmond. Waiting in a room for somebody who's never coming back to save you.

Doctor: "Really?"

Linden falls apart. Not like before. Maybe the good way.

Linden: "Whatever you want me to say, I'll say."
Doctor: "You spent the night alone in the dark..."

Sarah cries, she nearly nods. The doctor watches her, closely. And just before she opens her mouth, just before she says her secret, there's a knock on the door: She's been released.