AN: Thank you to whoever reviewed. I love you guys. Okay, next Chapter
Dedication: I dedicate this chapter to Lalenna. If you're reading this, YOU ROCK! :D
It took quite a while for the social worker to get there. The little boy had fallen asleep, and Sara could feel tiredness weighing down her eyelids. The social worker did finally arrive. She was a short, sturdy woman in her early 40s.
"Sara Sidle right," the social worker asked, and Sara nodded
"Jessica Robinson," She said holding out her hand. Sara took it somewhat reluctantly. She wasn't particularly fond of social workers.
"Did he tell you anything yet," she asked, looking at the little kid, still asleep next to Sara. Sara shook her head.
"He hasn't said a single word," Sara explained
The social worker didn't seem at all surprised.
"What's going to happen to him," Sara asked. It really was a pointless question. She knew well enough what was going to happen.
"Emergency Placement in a foster home. And then a mental evaluation."
Sara nodded again. Just what she had expected. She had been there. Emergency Placement and then a doctor trying to get in her head. Trying to see if she was too traumatized to be safe.
"Alright, I'll take it from here," the social worker said. Sara got up, being very careful not to wake the little boy up. She started to go out of the room. Just before she left she glanced back. He was still sleeping, probably not very soundly. Sara wanted to fix everything for that little kid. To make his world right again. To make everything okay. She knew she couldn't do that, but she would try.
Sara heard the shouting. Most days she would just pretend she didn't, stay in her room and pull the covers over her head. Put tonight was different. The voices seemed more stressed out and even louder. The little girl crept down the hall to the kitchen. She peaked around the corner. Her parents were fighting again of course. Nothing new about that. They didn't even notice their young daughter watching them. Their words were blurred, muddled. Sara couldn't understand.
There was a scream and the sound of a fist hitting flesh and bone. Sara's mother cried out again, clutching a broken, bleeding nose. Sara saw her father raise his fist again. Saw her mother reach for a kitchen knife. Saw her stab her father. But she didn't stop. Sara's mother kept stabbing and stabbing. Sara shouted something, she wasn't sure what. She was down by he father's side, shaking him. Begging him to get up. There was so much blood. The color of it, the smell of it, the sight, were all burned into her mind. The scene before her so horrible and vivid.
Sara sat bolt upright in her bed, her sheets soaked with sweat. It took her a moment to get her thoughts in order. To reminded herself that she wasn't still eight, that she was in Vegas not California. Once she did this she looked at her clock. She didn't have to be back at the lab for another 4 hours. She groaned and got out of bed. She knew she wouldn't be able to get back to sleep.
A few hours later she was sitting at one of the conference tables in the lab, going over the crime scene notes with Greg, who had also come to work early.
"Sara, there is a small problem with our victim," Greg said, pulling out a sheet of paper from one of the folders.
"What," Sara asked, sipping from a cup of coffee.
"Well she used her social security number to apply for a job. We ran it. Apparently she is a eight year old girl who died over ten years ago."
"That does not sound like our victim,"
"No, and we still have no idea who the kid is. Most of her neighbors didn't even know she had a kid. She just moved in a month ago and they almost never saw her out of the house,."
"What did she do with the kid when she was at work," Sara asked. She didn't like referring to the little boy as 'kid' but for now it would have to do.
Greg shrugged. "Like I said, nobody who knew her knew she had a kid."
"Alright. I think the hospital took some his blood. We'll call them and you could compare his DNA to our vic's"
"To make sure they're related?"
Sara nodded. Greg stood up and started to leave. Before he reached the door he turned around.
"Hey Sara, are you sure you're alright," he sounded genuinely concerned. Sara turned and looked at him and nodded. Greg didn't belive her and his face showed as much.
"Really, Greg," she said, trying to reassure herself more them him. She knew she wasn't fine.
Greg walked over to her and gave her a quick hug.
"Hey, Sara, you know I'm always here for you right."
Sara nodded smiling. "I know Greg. I know."
Greg gave her one last smile before leaving. Her heart would have probably melted right there if Sara's phone hadn't ring. It took her a moment to get it out of her pocket and answer it.
"Sidle," she said.
"Miss Sidle," came the sharp voice of the social worker at the other end of the line. She sounded stressed and panicked. How the social worker got her cell phone number she didn't know.
"Yes,"
"There's... There's a problem. With the boy from the hospital."
Sara was half-way out the door before the social worker even began to give her directions.
AN: Oooo, a clift hanger. I just love clift hangers.