When the body was on the move out of the building, Beckett followed it downstairs and headed for the door marked 'Infirmary'; no simple nurse's office for these students. She found Adam in one of the rooms where he was just passing a girl of multiracial heritage a paper cup of water, which she moved to her mouth and back down like a robot.

'Detective Brennan, am I interrupting?' she asked and Adam shook his head.

'Miss Ritter wanted to wait until you were hear in case she started crying, she said,' Adam explained.

'I'm not a sissy,' Sarah Ritter said stubbornly, her eyes still glassy. 'I always thought those women on TV who scream when they found a body were total wusses, but I guess I'm just as wussy as they are.'

'Sarah, you had no reason to think you'd find your teacher dead this morning,' Beckett said gently. 'I don't think reacting to that makes you a wuss.'

'Have you ever screamed when you saw a dead body?'

'No, but I've had other reactions most lay people would consider wussy,' Beckett replied, thinking of when Raglan had taken her and her father to the morgue to identify her mother's body. She'd thrown up right there on the cold white tile, every bit of pasta she'd eagerly scarfed down with her father at the restaurant while waiting for her mother to arrive. 'It doesn't make you weak, though. Just human.'

'That's something you say to everyone like this,' Sarah sighed in the way only a teenage girl could.

'Yes, it is, because it's the truth.'

For whatever reason, this seemed to bring Sarah out of her stupor and her eyes cleared a little; she straightened up, took a deep breath. 'Okay. What do you need to know?'

'Walk me through your movements from the start of your school day. What time did you get here?'

'I-The subway arrives at seven-forty-two, and it's a three minute walk from the end of the street here. I used my pass to get in the door and went to the junior lounge where my locker is.'

'The junior lounge?' Adam repeated.

'Yeah, it's like a combination locker room and lunch room for the juniors. Every year has one.'

'Oh sure, sure, they had something like that when I went to Washington Irving.'

At this revelation, both Beckett and Sarah's eyes popped, though it was Sarah who spoke in disbelief. 'You were a Horseman?'

'Our class just had its ten-year reunion in June.'

'Never would have guessed that.' Sarah took another sip of water. 'Anyways, I had an appointment with my post-secondary adviser about getting college visits set up, then I got a bagel and some tea in the cafe, listened to my iPod until the bell rang at ten after eight. My first class is...was...Professor Hill's class, AP algebra and geometry.'

'How are you doing in that class?'

'Pretty good. Dad says if I want to keep taking music and literature I have to do the math, even though we both know I'm going to study literary management and publishing at college.'

'I had the same battle with my mother over physics,' Beckett told and Sarah gave a little laugh. 'What next?'

'I had my butt in that chair the entire time, didn't leave the class once. It ran from eight-fifteen to nine-am. I didn't bother moving because my period right after is my independent study period and Professor Hill is...was...my supervisor for that.'

'What does an independent study supervisor do?'

'He makes sure you've got a quiet study space that isn't going to be full of distractions like the library. We have Internet access on the school computers if we need it and we can email our other teachers if...I'm sorry,' Sarah warbled as she dissolved into tears once more. She sniffled, swiping the backs of her hands under her eyes and thanked Beckett for the tissue she passed her. 'God, I've been doing this since we found him.'

'It's part of the normal grieving process,' Adam assured her.

'You're sure?'

'One hundred percent.'

'Okay. Okay.' Sarah pulled it in, blew her nose. 'I, ah, I saw Nicky Tee come in and asked him where Rollie was but he said Rollie was out sick. Roland McFarland, he's the other person Professor Hill was sponsoring for independent study.'

'Nicky Tee, that's Nicholas Tomasi?'

'Yeah. There's two Nick's in our class, so we call him Nicky Tee to make the difference. He came in and he looked upset about something but I didn't ask what it was because I had to work on my Shakespeare analysis. Then...then I started to feel a little funny, like...like I'd eaten something wrong. My skin started getting itchy feeling and I thought maybe I didn't read the label on the bagel closely enough.'

'You have food allergies?'

'Peanut allergy. That's what this started to feel like, like maybe I'd gotten a trace amount or something. I asked Professor Hill to go to the ladies room, and he said sure he'd walk me down. He was nice like that, to the guys and girls because you know how it is when you're sick, you turn into a kid again, right?'

'Oh yeah,' Beckett laughed, thinking of Shane Weaver's bouts with strep throat.

'Anyways,' Sarah sighed, crumpling up her now-empty cup, 'I threw up my bagel and tea, and that helped, so I figured it was the bagel. I must have been gone awhile because when I came out Nicky Tee was there and said that Professor Hill had sent him to fetch me. I think I thanked him and he walked with me back to class, and...and that's when...when w-we saw...'

'Okay, okay.' Beckett put her hand soothingly on the girl's shoulder as she broke down once more. 'You did great, Sarah.'

'Really?'

'Yes, you gave us a time line, and your friend finding you gives you an alibi.'

'Alibi? You think I could have done that?'

'No, I don't,' Beckett replied evenly, her tone smooth to get through to the still-shocky Sarah. 'But I want to know if you think any staff or students had a beef with him.'

'Well, everyone loves and hates Professor Hill in equal measure,' Sarah said with a guilty smile. 'He's a hard-ass- pardon my language - but when you come out of his class you know you used your brain and he makes you feel like you accomplished something. Can...I really wanna see my dad and my stepmom, are they here?'

'I'll go find out,' Adam volunteered; it was a perfect segue for Beckett because there was another question she wanted to ask. She loathed having to ask it but it had to be done.

'Sarah, do you know if Professor Hill was ever inappropriate with the female students? Or any of the male ones?'

'Inap- No! Ew! God, that's like...like thinking about kissing your brother!' Genuine disgust radiate on Sarah's face and Beckett knew it was too spontaneous to be a lie. 'All the girls thought he was cute, but he's old! He's like, almost forty!'

Oh youth, was Beckett could think and she rose, letting Sarah know they were done talking for the moment. 'Sarah, I know you're going to get a lot of people asking you about what you saw this morning, reporters included, and I know your parents will tell you the same thing I'm going to say - if you need to talk to someone about it, talk to me. You are a material witness to a homicide and-'

'I know, Detective. No spouting off to the press or you'll look bad, and I know you from reading the articles about your cases and Nikki Heat,' Sarah told her with another guilty little smile. 'You're one of the best cops in New York City, I don't want to tarnish that rep for you.'

'You're pretty savvy for a teenager.'

'My parents have told me that reputation counts for a lot, so make sure it's a good one. Be smart, be kind, and do your best not to hurt others.'

'That's a good family motto.'

Adam reappeared with a man who resembled Sarah in nearly every way, a copper-skinned woman with blue eyes at his side. 'Mister and Missus Ritter,' he said to Beckett, and while Sarah launched herself into her parents' embrace, he added, 'You ready for the other one?'

'Yeah. We'll see if he's as detailed as Sarah was.'