A/N: Hello! This is my first attempt at a Bones Fan Fiction on this site. It's been edited my yours truly, but that doesn't necessarily mean that it's error free. It's also highly improbable, but don't let that discourage you. Oh, and in this chapter, Brennan and Booth and the squints don't make an appearance. Bear with me...they are essential to the story! That said, they will make an appearance in the chapters to come:o) Happy reading!

CHAPTER 1

Rachel twirled the ring on her finger absently. Her mind wandered to the time when he mother gave her the ring. She was only six; she didn't fully appreciate the gravity of the situation.

"Rach, honey, I want you to have this. It's special, really special. Can you promise that you'll take good care of it for Mommy?" Her mom bent down and handed the silvery heirloom to the trembling child.

Rachel remembered the thoughts that swam through her head at the time. It was her birthday, and all of the festivities that ensued were dying down. She was decked out in a pretty pink jumper, and she vaguely recalled her flowery tights getting on her last nerve. Special…that means I have to be careful.

Spurred by the burning curiosity of a six-year-old, she extended her hand more than eagerly and happily received the gift. "What is it?" Rachel had asked.

"A ring, dear. I'm giving it to you to have for keeps, but you need to understand something for me, okay?"

Rachel only nodded.

"You need to promise that you won't hurt it. It's valuable."

Rachel smiled at the fond memory. She knew now that giving a ring to a child as young as she was wasn't a bright idea on anyone's part. But Rachel had always been different; she had always been mature for her age, both in her mannerisms and appearance. You never caught Rachel with her tongue stuck to an icy pole or stealing a cookie from the tempting jar perched up on the highest shelf before dinner. She hated messes and stickiness; all of her clothes were kept clean upon her insistence. In short, she was a good girl.

Rachel clutched the ring tightly in her right hand, and from that day forward, she was true to the covenant. There wasn't a scratch or blemish or flaw to speak of to this day.

Now at thirteen, Rachel smiled to herself as she examined the loop of silver placed gingerly on her finger. The front was sculpted into small loops, and if the light caught it just right, the small crystals glimmered before her eyes.

She still didn't understand the significance of the ring. Yes, it was pretty. But why give it to her at six? Sure, it may have been considered an extra birthday gift, but it just didn't seem like an appropriate present. A Barbie doll seemed to be more suitable for a six-year-old girl.

When Rachel first got it, it didn't fit on her slim, skinny fingers, so she stored it for safe keeping in the confines of her velvety jewelry box. It didn't go forgotten, though; every night before bed, she'd lift the top of the box, just to be sure it was still there. It always brought a smile to her face.

At ten, it fit on her middle finger. She proudly showcased it around the house, making sure that everyone knew that the ring belonged to her. Whenever she made a big to-do about it in front of her mother, Rachel noticed that though she smiled, there was a bit of sadness carefully tucked away behind it.

That had always been a talent of hers: reading people. She could tell a lie from a truth with her eyes closed, even if it was the first time she had ever met the person.

When Rachel was twelve, the ring finally fit where it rightly should have from the start: on her right ring finger. It brought Rachel a reassuring sense of confidence. She wasn't entirely certain as to why, but she liked it. Consequently, she didn't question it.

Rachel's eyes wandered from the ring to the mirror on her dresser. That was another thing Rachel had going for her: the gift of beauty. Though she wasn't sure where if came from, Rachel was graced with wavy, auburn locks of hair. Her eyes were the very definition of perfect: an almost icy blue. These features only served to accent her slim build.

The corner of her eye then caught on the plaque tucked casually in the corner of her dresser. THE FIFTEENTH ANNUAL PENNSLYVANIA STATE SCIENCE FAIR 2006: FIRST PLACE JUNIOR DIVISION, RACHEL WOOD. The memory brought a smile to her face. In addition to the pretty face, Rachel was a smart one, too. She loved science, and she had proved to excel in the field.

Yes, Rachel had a lot of things going for her. She was destined to succeed, even though she was raised in a simple suburban home in Camden, Pennsylvania.

A knock on the door interrupted Rachel's scattered thoughts. "Rach?" The face of her mom poked through the crack in the door. "Can you be a doll and head up to the attic when you get the chance?"

Her mom…Goodness, she was Rachel's exact opposite. She had blondish hair and brownish eyes, and as much as Rachel hated to admit it, her mother was no treat to look at. Her face was plump and filled-out. Years of wrinkles defined her pale features. Rachel had to wonder where she got her auburn hair and blue eyes, especially after a glance at her father.

He was no delight, either. His black, disheveled hair only served to accentuate his rugged features and heavy set body. He wore these thick, plastic glasses, and he kept them on the tip of his nose, making his eyes appear considerably smaller than usual. Rachel had to wonder how he kept them on all day.

Rachel's siblings seemed to a combination of her parents. Her fifteen-year-old sister, Beth, had her mom's eyes and her father's hair. Beth was tall, and by no means thin, but you couldn't help but to like her. Brandon was eleven. He took after her dad, all muscle and brawn without much brain.

Rachel couldn't help but to feel out of place. She couldn't honestly name a trait that she shared with her brother or sister or mother or father. And that formidable feeling seemed to lurk around more often than Rachel cared to admit. Often times, when a stranger brought mentioned that lack of similarity, she just shrugged off her feelings of insecurity.

"Yeah, sure, Mom. What do you need?" Rachel asked, already hopping off her bed and approaching the door for further instruction.

"It's just a box labeled 'Christmas Decorations, 1997.' It shouldn't be too difficult to find. I need it for tomorrow."

Rachel nodded. "I'll bring it down before dinner."

Thoughts of tomorrow drifted into her head as she maneuvered her way up the attic steps. The annual Wood Family garage sale was scheduled. Rachel had always found the event to be annoying; the family always made a big to-do about it. Rachel couldn't see the thrill in sifting through years of clutter that had been tucked away in the cobwebby corners of the attic for good reasons.

Absently, she shoved a few boxes around. She smiled when she saw a box labeled 'Christmas Decorations, 1997.' That was easier than expected. At least I don't have to spend hours digging through junk.

As Rachel began her descent down the stairs, something caught her eye. It was a trunk. At first glance, it was just a trunk. The handle was rusted, and a thin layer of dust seemingly sealed it shut. Intrigued, she set the Christmas decorations down and pried the trunk open.

A layer of torn papers were spread before her, and Rachel gingerly lifted them. A closer look told her that they were just newspapers. She quickly piled them in her hand and set those aside, too. Underneath the clutter, she found a box.

This box wasn't made of cardboard. It was cherry wood, and it was obviously here for a reason. Rachel heaved the wooden case out of the trunk. It was heavy; it took more than a few seconds to get it resting on her lap.

Rachel dusted her hands on the sides of her legs and set to opening the box. Her heart quickened at what she saw. Her palms perspired, and suddenly it seemed as though the attic walls were closing in on her. No, it couldn't be. It just couldn't be. Not Rachel. Never Rachel.

The envelope was old and yellowed with age. Scrawled in shaky, bluish ink was written: Adoption Papers: Rachel Anne Wood. With her shaky hands, Rachel gingerly lifted the flap that could hold the key to the truth.

She slipped out the forms. They were very official looking: a bunch of legal mumble-jumble was typed across the top, followed by the signatures of Steven and Lauren Wood, her legal guardians. According to these papers that Rachel held in her hands, Mr. and Mrs. Steven Wood were Rachel Wood's legal guardians, and nothing more. They weren't her biological parents.

The world seemed to stop. Time seemed to stop. Rachel couldn't control the thoughts that swirled through her mind. Adoption…Closed adoption…Not real parents…Parents could be dead…Oh dear God!

Something slipped between the forms. It was a Polaroid picture of a smiling man and woman. With her still shaky hands, she flipped it over to the back. In messy script, Rachel read the words, "Me and Bones." Bones? Who was "Bones?" More importantly, who was "me?"

Quickly, she flipped the photograph over to the front. The woman was the very definition of perfection. Her delicate figure was dressed in a simple bluish coat of sorts, and something was monogrammed in white along the breast-pocket. It was too blurry for Rachel to make any sense of it.

The woman's eyes were a clear blue, and Rachel's heart nearly stopped when she realized that they were exact replicas of her own. She had auburn, wavy locks that rested just so on her shoulders, and Rachel had to look away for a moment to gather her thoughts. There was too much of a resemblance to be coincidental.

The man was one of most handsome Rachel had ever seen. His smile eerily reminded Rachel of her own: it obviously possessed the power to persuade. His suit was fitted to his muscular physique, and it probably cost a pretty penny. Of course, this time the resemblance wasn't quite as blatant. You had to squint to notice it really. There was something about him, though, that reminded Rachel very much of herself, and that thought scared her to no end.

Though she wanted to ignore it, Rachel knew that her "parents" were probably going to start thinking something was wrong if she didn't make an appearance soon.

Gathering her thoughts, she tucked the Polaroid safely away in her pants pocket and shoved the forms back into their proper envelope. In a rush, she threw the papers in the wooden case, and then tossed the box inside the trunk, quickly concealing the cherry wood with the pile of newspapers again.

She practically ran down the attic steps, clutching the box of Christmas decorations in her arms. Once she was in the safety of her bedroom, she plopped down on her mattress and started to sob.

She wasn't Rachel Wood. She wasn't the daughter of Steven and Lauren Wood. She wasn't the sister of Beth and Brandon Wood. And that's what scared her: she didn't know who she was, but she was going to have to find out.

So what do ya think? Reviews make me happy!