Breakowski had a flat on the upper west side, sure, but the precinct was her real home. She lived from case to case, always dreading the moment that the handcuffs go click and suddenly she’s left to face herself. At her desk, at the precinct, there was always another case, always another perp, always another wall to put up between her and her inner self. And that’s why she’d be damned if she was going to let a coalition of spiders, monkeys and crows take over the joint on her watch.