"Excuse me, Catherine Willows?" I turn around in annoyance. This has not been my night. I immediately feel my emotions change. Sitting in a chair is a girl no older than Lindsey, twelve, maybe? Tear tracks run down her face, the gold glitter that lines her eyes now making it's way down her face. She wears and off the shoulder Marilyn Manson tee and ripped skinny jeans. I take a seat next to her in the waiting room.
"Well, since you know my name, what's yours?" She looks at me, trying to find out if I'm safe. She looks like Lindsey after Eddy died. Scared, alone, and untrusting.
"Clark. Clark Kent." She finally says.
"Like Superman?" She nods, and a tiny smile plays on her lips.
"My dad, he likes Superman. Cartoons in general. Do you know where he is?" She asks me, pulling on the ends of her dark brown curls, which are dipped bleach.
"Who?"
"My dad. Greg Sanders. He's a CSI here. Well, he will be, when he passes his final proficiency." I try to mask my surprise, after all, this girl looks scared enough. Greg has a daughter? I take a closer look at Clark Kent. She is a female version of Greg. A Marilyn Manson tee-shirt, bleached hair, hazel eyes. Why would he hide that from us? Mental note: kick his ass. "He didn't tell you about me, did he?"
"No. I'm sorry, sweetie."
"Figures." She opens a locket around her neck, tracing a small picture of Greg. "He left me with my mom, who never really wanted me."
"Sweetie, why are you here?" Her eyes fill with tears, and she wipes them away.
"I don't want to tell you."
"Why not?"
"Because…" Greg and Sara burst through the doors as she begins her sentence. They're arguing about something
"Sara, it was your turn."
"Yeah, well, I have seniority."
"Seriously?"
"Yes, Greg." He turns away in frustration and finally notices me, rubbing circles on Clark Kent's back. He runs over and she throws her arms around him as he runs his hand through her curls.
"Superman? What are you doing here, sweetheart?"
"She…she…" Clark Kent bust into sobs. "Don't make me go to foster care, daddy. Please, please, please." She looks absolutely terrified.
"Clark, of course not. C'mon, lets go home." And without a word to me or an equally confused Sara, he carries her and the small duffel out of the lab.