A/N : I thought this would take longer but I'm happy to present you my new story! As I said, B&B will deal with a serial killer. I'll do my best to work the case with as many details I'm able to, it not the easy part but I'm always trying to improve! The prologue is NOT the beginning of the story. I just felt like doing this kind of preview. I hope you won't be too confused. Good reading!

Prologue

Temperance Brennan slowly woke up with the feeling that something was unusual. She tried to remember what she had done the night before, and was slightly annoyed when it happened to not be that easy. Had she been working late? She didn't think so. Writing for her novel at home? No memory of that. Gone out with Angela? Suddenly some images flashed in her mind. The bar, the music. Yes, she had gone out. Not with Angela, though. She began to remember faces. In particular, the faces of the people she had talked with. Mostly men. But she had no memory of Angela being around.

Of course not. She had been in this bar for the case.

She sighed in relief. Everything was clearer, now. She hated to wake up and be unable to know what day of the week it was.

But more disturbing was the realisation that she didn't remember leaving the bar. She didn't remember whether they had made progress in the case. She didn't remember talking with her partner before coming back home. She didn't even remember how she had come back home. Somehow, this was no good.

She opened her eyes and sat up abruptly, pushing back the covers, and her heart skipped a beat. These were not her sheets. This was not her bed. This was not her room.

She covered her mouth with both hands in shock, trying to figure out where the hell she could possibly be. Had she hung out with a man? There was no man in the bed. Maybe he had woken up before her and walked out of the room without making a noise. But the pillow beside her didn't seem to have been used. And how came she felt so dizzy? Had she ended up drunk?

She huffed, upset and confused. It didn't feel like a hangover. She wrapped her arms around her legs, her chin resting on her knees. On the verge of tears, she couldn't help thinking of what had happened to her in New Orleans. What if all this was happening again?

A wave of panic washed through her, and she started to check every part of her body for scratches, bruises or other marks that could tell her what the hell was going on. But she didn't find anything. That's when she realised that she was still wearing her clothes. Her shoes had been left on the floor next to the bed, and she was still in her now crumpled black and white dress.

Her stress sort of lessened, while her curiosity was roused. Things were getting more confusing.

She let her gaze wander around. Although she would have sworn that she had never been in this room before—and was always proud to prove what a particularly good memory she had—something about it seemed familiar; something she couldn't explain. It had to be about the furniture, or the sheets…

Not really convinced, she lowered her eyes to the soft fabric her hands were clinging nervously to. No. It had to be about the smell. A scented candle, maybe, that would have been lit up some hours before and which fragrance she would recognise.

She glanced around, searching for said candle.

That is how her eyes met it, and she froze. The frame. She stared at it, her mouth half opened, her eyes growing wide. The face of the cute, blond little boy in the picture, she knew him quite well. His name was Parker.

A/N : Chapter 1 will be ready for Friday. Brennan is coming back from Peru and you'll meet one of the victims of the case. Have a nice week!