Yang tells Posner and his accomplice the story of the woman in the shower. Posner tries to convince her that she imagined the whole thing because she's so tired. He suggests that she saw the picture earlier without realizing it. He tells her to take the day off. Numbly, she nods.
Fade to the shower room, where Yang is huddled on the floor in a pool of light, talking to the dead woman. She says she's sorry that no one found the woman and that she was left to die alone. She tells the woman that "he" won't hurt her anymore, and she can rest now. After a beat, she adds, "We both can." Huh? Yang fades out of the picture, and the lights dim.
Cut to Dalgety in the locker room with his head in his hands. Kellerman struts in and teases, "Been to the morgue lately?" Dalgety's surprised he heard about it. Kellerman assures him that everyone has. Kellerman takes a seat on a bench and runs his hands through his hair, exhausted. Dalgety asks, "Do you ever wonder why we bother?" "Not today," Kellerman answers, as The Strings Of Sentimentality kick up. "Today we saved two." Dalgety's commitment is renewed. Kellerman's cell rings, and Dalgety asks if he has to go back to work. Kellerman stares sadly at the phone and says he missed his son's trick-or-treating. He wanders out of the locker room, leaving Dalgety to sigh some more.
Kellerman finds Pam pacing in the waiting room, teeth clenched. She informs Kellerman that Mac "was really disappointed." Kellerman says that he was, too. Pam looks around, trying to digest the fact that the man isn't some monster hell-bent on breaking little boys' hearts. She asks, "Did you at least save a life tonight?" Kellerman aw-shuckses that he did. Pam shoves her hands in her pockets and suddenly seems shy. She tilts her chin toward the benches behind Kellerman and says, "He really wanted you to see his costume." Kellerman turns, and the camera pans over to the little moppet, fast asleep on the bench and decked out like a mini-surgeon. A tiny part of my heart says "aw" despite itself. Kellerman looks like he could cry, and walks slowly over to his son. He takes a seat to the kid and gently moves the stethoscope that's around his neck. Mac stirs and mumbles, "Dad?" Kellerman pats his shoulder, and the kid instantly falls asleep again. Pam starts to say that it's late and they should get going, but one look at Kellerman's verklempt face, and she melts. Sighing, she takes a seat on the other side of the kid. They fade out of the frame, leaving Kellerman stretched out and feeling fine. The camera pans back through the waiting room and out the doors.