Six months, five days and 13 hours after they caught their first serial killer Mordria gave Chance a nod, got up. "Have a good night," she said. The most pleasant encounter other than the 'good morning' in the mornings. She walked out of the building, it was a Wednesday. She hadn't missed a day of work, hadn't said anything and the next day she was off.
When Chance asked about it he got a scoffing reply of 'she's your partner, shouldn't you know this' followed by 'it's the year anniversary dude.'
Mordria had holed up in her house with a bottle (or twenty) of whiskey with no intention of coming out. Fridge stocked with food for the most part and take out on order if she needed it.