Why Was Rosie Larsen Killed is the next logical question; it's a question another show would ask. And though it's a slightly longer answer, that wouldn't matter either, I don't think. More words, more facts to leave behind.
Why Do Bad Things Happen To Good People isn't a useful question. Why Do Bad Things Happen To People is slightly better, but still not a question with an answer: Why Do Things Happen. They just do. It's a racket, but it's one that will continue.
What Happened Because Rosie Larsen Died, though. What happens when Death shows up at your door, unasked for and undeserved? Where do you go, when you can't get out? Who do you have to hurt, to get payback from the world? How far does the line of blood go, once you start in on revenge? What possible action is appropriate in response to the stillness of death, what could possibly make you feel better? How many children does Sarah Linden have to save before she's whole? What's to be done in the face of profound loneliness? How much of grief is just distracting yourself from loss, weaving a cocoon of pain around the unanswerable, until the black box of your body knits itself together again?
Those aren't questions, they're stories. They don't have answers. That's what makes them mysteries.
Terry: "Oh, you guys. Fabulous. How about you leave them alone for like one second?"
Holder: "We got him."
Terry: "You did? Who is it?"
Linden: "Good news and bad news, Relative. We come bearing both. Produce them."
Terry: "They moved. I have to go upstairs for a quick staring into space session."
Linden: "Holder, don't light that cigarette in this garage."
Holder: "It is a garage."
Linden: "Hold on, the music is saying I might discover another clue."
Holder: "Don't say it don't say it don't say it"
Broken taillight on the car in the garage. Aw, fuck.
Well, no. These are just the final threads of it: Terry upstairs on Rosie's bed, eyes hollow, in an almost empty bedroom. Got it. Got it all. Man.
Sarah: "You were at the lake. You picked up Ames from the ferry, for your flight to Vegas. He got a call, about a girl in the woods. You are the woman."
Terry: "Rosie was nine when I told her about the Monarch butterflies. She took that story very seriously. It gave her belief."
Sarah: "You believed it too, I think. You were going to be a butterfly, just like her. Michael Ames was the love of your life."