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Summary
Dennis’ voice cut in beside her, “Who was that?”
“I have no fucking clue,” Trinity said.
She didn't even know Garcia had people like that. Ten months and Trinity could count on one hand the things she actually knew about Garcia's life outside of her apartment. She'd never asked. Hadn't wanted to know, she had told herself. Casual. Clean.
What happens when a trauma comes through the ED doors and Trinity realizes she never actually knew Garcia at all?
Post Fourth of July