Because once you start thinking about why Rosie was leaving and the dedication she showed in getting there -- the hope that was lifting her up, and out; the strength at her back -- the arbitrary circumstances of her death aren't scary or life-defining anymore: Just sad. It's just a sad thing that happened. A girl was about to start her own life, joyously, and didn't get to make the appointment. Still sad, but a different story, and once you see the story for what it is, you can start moving. You can walk through grief, a state, and into mourning. A process. A ritual as old as time.
And any old Orpheus can tell you that the first rule is, you don't look back. For the next bit, you just look forward. Welcoming her home, making a place for her memory. She isn't holding you back there with her, among the shades, because she doesn't have to anymore: Now, you're carrying her with you. Forward into light. And she isn't heavy at all.
Just ask Darren, who's sitting at Lily's grave when Gwen calls. If there's one part of Jamie's speech that moved you forward instead of back it was this: You got so tied up in the story of grieving her that you left her out of it. So tied up in your own pain that you forgot the world keeps turning, and desperately needs you in it.
Gwen: "Press everywhere, inundated with calls, where are you?"
Darren: "Visiting my wife."
Gwen: "Gotcha. Okay, I'll cover for you. Couple hours, I can give you."
Darren: "Moving on might be a possibility."
Gwen smiles, after she hangs up. It seems like a sweet smile. I think Ruth Yitanes might be lying after all.
Sarah and Stephen stand on the site, looking out across the empty wild.
Sarah: "Jamie never said... What happened. What she went through, here."
Wouldn't help. She thinks it would help, it's what makes her good at her job, this addict's idea that solving a mystery will make you feel better. It won't. You're left with the story, no matter how many facts you have. The facts are just the parts you'll leave behind.
Who Killed Rosie Larsen is a question, in the end, with a very simple answer. A one-word answer, in fact. If I told you that word twenty-six days ago, how would that help?
Sarah: "I wanted to get him. Get him."
Stephen: "We did get him. And we still haven't told the Larsens, so how about we table the part where it's all about you for like one more minute."