The cheery, afternoon sunlight was filtering through the large kitchen windows, splashing the room with light and warmth. It was a cozy feeling, standing in the ranch-style house with its country décor. She had grown up in this house and, even though she had enjoyed the benefits of living independently during her college years, she had always found herself yearning for the comfort and safety of her childhood home. No longer, though. She finally found herself hoping for something bigger than Montana.

Lindsay Monroe stared in disbelief at the phone still clutched in her hand. It had been her day off of work, which was probably for the best considering her wide-eyed, open-mouthed expression. She couldn't believe the words that had just been spoken, the words that were bouncing around her skull.

Me? she thought. He wanted me?

Over the course of the last few months, she had spent a lot of time perfecting her résumé and sending out portfolios to East Coast labs. Her supervisor, Detective Byers, had often commented on her skills while in the field and had repeatedly asked her what she was still doing slumming in the nation's Midwest. Lindsay had spent some time considering his words and had been quite nervous when she had finally shown up outside his office door one day to inquire whether his words were meant in jest or whether he really thought she could do better in a bigger lab.

To her incredible surprise, he had opted for the latter. He said she had amazing potential and she would go so much farther in a big city lab. Even though their conversation had given her the impression that he would help her if she wanted to transfer out, she still felt quite anxious when she got up the courage to ask him for reference letters.

Needless to say, she had stumbled home that day in a daze. A whole world of new possibilities had suddenly opened up to her and she had no idea where to start looking. She had kept the news from her parents, not wanting to inform them until she had a game plan to present them with.

After she had spent considerable time researching the different crime labs she could apply to, she had narrowed it down to seven possibilities that she had sent her application packet to. After that, all she could do was wait. She never lessened her efforts at the Bozeman lab, and no one had known about her possible transfer except for Byers. In her spare time, and out of sight of her co-workers, she had poured over whatever information she could glean about the cities she had applied to. She looked into rental rates, nightlife, crime rates, outdoor activities, basically everything she could possibly need to know about her future home. When all was said and done, she had set her heart on New York City or Boston.

As the days had turned into weeks, Lindsay had found herself willing the phone to ring every second of every day. A lead had come in, out of the blue, regarding the cold case murder of her friends and somehow the news had circulated among the community. Lindsay hadn't been able to go anywhere without the stares following her. She had been able to handle them much as she ever had since the day it had happened, but when she had bumped into Kristen's mother at the grocery store one day, she had finally decided enough was enough. She had never felt so uncomfortable and miserable in her life, and the entire time she had spoken with Mrs. Hartfield, she had wished she was anywhere but there. She hadn't been able to make eye contact with the woman the entire time, and it was in that moment that Lindsay realized that she couldn't stay there. She just didn't have the strength to repel the looks and the whispers anymore. She needed to go somewhere where no one knew about her past and where she could just be herself.

Finally, the day had come.

"Lindsay Monroe?" the voice on the other end of the line had asked.

"Speaking," she had replied. Not recognizing the phone number, she was curious as to who it was. With her mother's recent ill health, Lindsay wasn't as focused on anything else, otherwise, she might have suspected.

"This is Detective Mac Taylor with the New York Crime Lab." Lindsay's heart had dropped into her stomach. This is it! She had thought excitedly, sitting bolt upright from where she had plopped down on the sofa. Even though she knew he couldn't see her, she still would have felt bad taking his call while in such a lazy position.

Stricken speechless by the opportunity that was bearing down on her, she had realized he was patiently waiting for her to say something, possibly to acknowledge him. "Hello, Detective Taylor. It's—" she had searched for the right words, "well, it's a pleasure to hear from you." A pleasure? What? Am I accepting an invitation for tea? She had groaned mentally.

Even though the phone call had caught her off guard, she had made every attempt to remain professional while on the line, which ended up being easier said than done when conducted in the comfort of her home.

Detective Taylor had kept the call short and to the point, asking questions and giving Lindsay an overview of the lab and some details of the team she would be working with. Halfway thru the conversation, she had realized that the call had been a phone interview and a job offer rolled into one. Concluding the call, he had requested her to start in ten days' time, saying he knew it was short notice, but something had come up and he needed her to start sooner than he had originally planned.

Still holding the phone in her hand, she kept staring at it, unsure if she had just dreamt the whole thing or if it had really happened. Was she really going to New York? To live and to work? Scrolling back thru the call history, she pulled up the details of the last call. Her eyes flitted across the 212 number and, the best part—the thirty minute timestamp.

Dropping the phone, she screamed, "MOM!" Sprinting up the stairs to where her mother was recuperating after her bout with pneumonia, she charged thru the door, not quite comprehending that it probably wasn't the best idea to startle an ill person.

Mrs. Monroe, however, took everything in graceful stride and attentively awaited her daughter's entrance. Lindsay had temporarily moved back home in order to help out around the house while her mother was healing, and Mrs. Monroe was still getting used to having her back under the same roof.

"Mom," she gasped, breathless from her leaps up the stairs. "It happened. I got a call. From New York!" She held out the silent phone as if it would suddenly spring to life and start replaying the conversation.

Despite her illness, Lindsay's mom was genuinely happy for her, wishing her all the luck in the world as she embarked on this new adventure. They spent the next few hours planning out everything for her impending relocation, even going so far as to plan a girls' shopping expedition in a few days' time. Lindsay had moved to protest, citing her mother's health, but Mrs. Monroe waved her worries away.

"Just give me a couple more days and I'll be good as new. You know I can't let you run off to New York with nothing. Besides, it gives me an excellent excuse to get out and get some fresh air and have some fun." Lindsay was about ready to object once again, but her mother held her hand up, brooking no argument. "Now why don't you go find your father and tell him the good news? You may have to ask him for Freddie's number so that you have some place to live—temporarily, of course, until you find an apartment."

Even though the prospect was not a pleasing one to her, her exuberance at going to New York was only briefly dampened by the fact that she most likely would be spending some time at Uncle Freddie's. Leaving her mother to get some rest, she descended the stairs, ready to inflict her news on another unsuspecting victim, who should be arriving home shortly.