For a little while, she thought that they'd leave the clinic and Rossum alone. After all, how could they shut down such good places, that did so much for the City?

The answer was easily.

In hindsight, it had been a mistake to make her work into her life. But it was really all she had known, all she had wanted to do. Helping people was what she'd been good at, whether it be by giving them medical attention or figuring out how their loved one had died. But now she didn't have any of that, just her skills and a more than modest bank account to show for all her years of work. But her research, her friends--taken, scattered. The uncertainty was the worst.

Leaving the City didn't seem like an option. She was too settled, liked it too well. Registration had been the clear option, the safe one. It hadn't been that much trouble; her powers weren't really anything that could be considered threatening, and that was how she preferred things to be.

She rents a flat somewhere else in New England during the year, so she can travel back and forth as she likes. Her work boils down to volunteering now; she shows her credentials in whichever small town she passes through, stays for a week or so and helps out where she can. But she misses her work and research, and has never quite fixed her sleep schedule. More nights than not she's awake in her flat, reading this or that medical text or romance novel, drinking a glass of wine and trying to decide where she'll go next. Lacey curls up on her lap and she pets her as she peruses her books, wondering where everyone has gone. But she doesn't regret her life--Molly isn't good at regret. She only wishes there had been more she could've done.

[if the clinic/rossum didn't close, etc. i will change this!! but this is what i've come up with, assuming they did.]