We went to Henry's house to dye my hair. After dying my hair, Henry gets me a cup of hot tea and we start chatting.

"So you were born around the Civil War?"

"Just after. Like ten years, give or take."

"How old were you when you first died?"

"15."

"That must be convenient. Not having to work."

"Yes because teenage hormones, pimples, and school is fun!" I said, my tone dripping with sarcasm.

Henry frowned. "How many schools have you been to?"

"Well, I haven't stayed in many for too long, because most deem me too smart and give me scholarships to college."

"What all have you majored in?"

"Psychology, forensics, law, biology, marine biology, Pediatrics, animation, the list goes on."

"Well, you have done a lot."

"Yeah, no kidding."

Suddenly, an older man came in, with grey hair, a large nose, and a striking resemblance to Henry.

"Well, who is this?" He asked in a completely American accent.

"Abe, this is your sister."

Abe's face scrunched with confusion. "I don't remember you having sex in the past... 17 years?"

"15," I said.

"Abe... She was born 140 years ago."

He paused. "What?" He said in a quiet voice.

I looked down at my tea. Something told me he didn't inherit my immortality. I stood and left the room, muttering about changing clothes. I was in the guest bedroom, and I heard the phone ring. I slowly exited the room, going downstairs.

"Okay, I'm on my way, and I'm bringing a guest I would like you to meet."

"What's going on?" I asked softly.

"There was a murder, and I was hoping you could accompany me."

"What about Abe?"

"Oh I'm not interested in his crime mumbo jumbo. I have this antique shop to run."

"Okay," I muttered. I changed into more professional clothing: a dark green button-up dress with some Toms. I went downstairs and followed Henry out the door.

We got at the crime scene, a dark alley, and we went under the yellow tape. I could immediately tell what happened as soon as I saw the body. She was young, about 20 to 25 years old.

The way her body was positioned, she got attacked from behind. She tried to put up a fight to the person who put her in a choke hold, but her effort was futile. She even tried to kick him, but all that got her was a DNA sample for us. Also, the killer was wearing shorts. Ding!

"Who do we have here?" Henry asked, snapping me back to reality.

"We have here a Marie Durani, a twenty-three year old student at a nearby community college. That is about all we know."

"Well, Ms. Durani was murdered!" Henry said.

"Knew it!" Someone muttered behind us.

"How she was murdered, you ask? Well, it appears the cause is exactly what it seems: strangling."

"It seems the killer was wearing shorts," I interrupted. I grabbed an evidence bag and removed her shoe, placing it in the bag and sealing it. "You see, when she was attacked from behind... Henry will you help me out? Stand behind me."

He did so.

"Now, when the woman was being attacked, she was panicking, she couldn't breathe. She kicked and flailed, ultimately not helping her dying, but she managed to scrape her shoe on his leg. That's how I assumed the murderer was wearing shorts. Or nothing at all... But I'd assume the latter."

"Nothing's as fun as being naked, am I right?" Henry said sarcastically.

"Who is this anyways?" Detective Martinez queried after a hoard of laughter.

"I'm his long lost one night stand," I said with a smile. "I'm Rachel."