Thanks to all for the wonderful reviews… Here's chapter 3 dedicated to all my reviewers.

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As he walked down the cobblestone walkway he came to a bend. Before him sat a women, leaning over a sketchpad with her dark hair over her picture.

"Angela?"

"Yes?" The woman before him asked, somewhat meekly as she continued drawing, not once meeting Booth's eyes. Her appearance and voice gave the impression of a timid woman, not the joyful, vibrant spirit of the Angela Montenegro he knew.

"Why aren't you at the Jeffersonian?" He questioned looking at the black charcoal drawing that rested within her hands. The picture portrayed foreboding willow trees and a dark pool beneath them.

Angela snorted slightly at his question. "I haven't worked there in about three years."

"Why not?' Booth pressed, placing a gentle hand on top of hers to cease her drawing.

She looked up at him then. Her face was dark with makeup and the smooth tan skin of her cheek was laced with a dark purple bruise. Her eyes were filled with a sadness that Booth had never seen.

"Who are you?" She asked, sharply.

"Angela, what's happened to you?" He asked, his voice thick with sympathy for this seemingly fragile creature.

"Please, leave me alone." Angela whimpered, as she began packing up her supplies. "Please, I don't know you."

Before he could stop her she grabbed what was left of her materials and ran down the cobblestone path and into a nearby crowd.

Booth sighed to himself. What was happening to these people? "Christine!" Booth called as he jogged over to the mother of his dearest friend. "Christine, what's wrong with her?"

The older woman was waiting by a nearby fountain. She stood and walked towards the agent. "Life, Booth. Life happened to your dear artist."

Booth ran a large hand over his hair. "But why this life? Why does life have to be this way for her? She doesn't deserve this."

"Things happen, Booth." Christine explained. "In Angela's case, she is living a life of a street artist. She lives with a young man who is not so kind to her. Ever since her boyfriend, Kirk, went missing two years ago."

"But why isn't she working at the Jeffersonian?" There were so many questions to ask and Booth didn't know what to do with them all.

"After what happened there, she couldn't go back and face it." Christine responded sadly, knowing that this wasn't what Booth had wanted to hear.

Booth stopped suddenly, his eyes wide with fear for his colleagues. "Christine, please. What's happened?"

Christine Brennan sighed sadly. "Come, its time for you to see."

Once again, the older woman laced her fingers within his and led him from the park.

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I'm writing the next part now, so it'll be up tonight I promise. This next chapter is the big one but definitely not the last.

Review please!