Understanding washed over me when she turned her face to the sky. I glanced at Hodgins and knew he was seeing it, too. We’d had it wrong. But no one could blame us.

The call had been a replay of countless others, and when you’ve been in this business long enough you know better than to look too deep. The ones who wanna get close, the guys who try to dig below the surface? They don’t last long. But me an’ Hodgins, we’d been doing this a long time, and like I said we’d responded to that sort of call more times than either of us could remember.

We were the second medic team on scene that night, but based on the call from dispatch we didn’t anticipate transporting anyone. It was a night for the Coroner’s vans and the Forensics team. We were just a line on a checklist. The first team was standing near the front of their vehicle, talking to a cop, when we pulled up. Their breath steamed in the flashing lights from the cruisers. It looked cold as hell out there.

‘Is that fuckin’ Matson?” Hodgins scowled out the window towards the other ambulance. The question was rhetorical, but I played along, squinting into the emergency lights to get a better view.

“Yeah, looks like it. Matson and Reines.”

“How the fuck does that moron still have a job?” Another rhetorical question, and this time I didn’t play along. Hodgins mumbled something unintelligible under his breath, then settled himself deeper into the passenger seat, attempting to find a comfortable position for his six foot two frame. I cranked up the heat and shifted my gaze to the large two-story brick house lit up by flood lights.  It was nothing special, at least not for the neighborhood. Yeah, it was a mansion compared to my townhome, and the landscaping alone screamed money. But, compared to the other homes on the street it was just average. It was the sorta neighborhood where nights like this made the news, complete with a press conference and shocked statements from community members. Like real violence only touched the poor. Hodgins and I knew better. 

Cops milled about the front yard, their casual postures confirming there was no longer any threat. Two figures moving up the walkway caught my attention. Matson and Reines. Hodgins straightened and we exchanged a skeptical look then returned our attention to the house. Reines had climbed the wide front steps and was crouched low, speaking with a figure seated on the landing. Matson remained on the walk, shoulders hunched against the cold. A minute or so later Reines descended. She paused on the bottom step and said something to Matson, puffs of breath filling the space between them. He replied and Reines shrugged and shook her head, then the two returned the way they’d come without a backwards glance.

I looked again towards the house, this time focusing on the steps and the person huddled there. How I’d missed her before I couldn’t say, but she had every bit of my attention now. Someone had given her one of those shiny Mylar blankets and she had it wrapped tight around her shoulders, head tucked low towards her knees. Long lank hair obscured her face. That the figure was a she had never been in doubt. There was just this smallness about the slender form that made me certain it was a female, most likely a girl. Even from here I could see she was fragile and frightened. And yet, I was transfixed by the spotlights and the flashing reds and blues reflecting off the Mylar. She absolutely gleamed.

“Jesus Christ, is she barefoot?” Hodgins’ voice was a mixture of incredulity and anger.

I looked over at him and then back to the girl. He was right. She was barefoot. I looked down at the temperature gauge on the dash, then at Hodgins.  “It’s only two degrees. What the fuck was Reines thinking, just leaving her there? She’ll be hypothermic.” 

Hodgins locked eyes with me for a moment then unbuckled his seat belt. “Matson’s a GODDAMNED idiot!”

He clambered into the back and I turned and watched as he grabbed blankets then pushed open the back doors. “Come on, Layne!” he barked as he dropped to the ground.

By the time I’d grabbed my gloves and was out of the vehicle the big man was almost to the walkway. I caught up with him as he reached the base of the steps. For a moment we stood in silence and regarded the girl, whose forehead rested on her knees. She didn’t look up upon our arrival. Except for the rise and fall of her back with her breath, she was completely still. Hodgins cleared his throat. “Hello, Miss. I’m Jack Hodgins, and this is Lou Layne. We’re with Emergency Services. It’s extremely cold tonight, as I’m sure you know. Dangerously cold, actually. And –”

Her head snapped up and granite eyes pierced Hodgins. He swallowed audibly and dropped his gaze to his boots. With an irritated sigh she pushed herself to her feet, and I stumbled back in surprise and, I admit, a bit of fear. She was of a height with Hodgins and broad shouldered and muscular. How had I thought her either small or fragile? She had released her blanket and I saw now that, well, it wasn’t a blanket at all, and it was fastened about her neck by a luminescent blue clasp.  She seemed untouched by the cold despite being clad only in boxer shorts and a tank top, the sort of thing my ex used to sleep in. Her hands moved to her hips and I noticed swollen and bloody knuckles, a gash on the right forearm. There was more blood, on her feet and thighs and shirt, but it didn’t seem to be hers.  She sighed again, and I felt hard eyes boring into me. I flushed as I realized how it must’ve looked, what with her barely dressed and me staring her up and down. Except I wasn’t. Or, at least not like that. When I looked up she was shaking her head and making her way down the steps. She brushed past me and Hodgins, who stared at her open mouthed. 

“Wait!” She stopped, then turned to look at me. Her eyes were weary, her stance impatient. She raised a dark eyebrow, waiting. “Where are you going? It’s freezing out here.” Behind me Hodgins coughed nervously. She considered me a moment, and then moved closer, and closer still, until she was close enough for me to see the misted blood speckling her clavicle and the faded scar coursing down her neck. She smelled of peppermint and lavender.

“Lou, right?” I swallowed and nodded. “There are three dead girls in that house, Lou. Three. None older than seventeen. I couldn’t save them, and I need some time to process that. Time and a hot bath and a lot of bourbon.” She smiled a sad smile and brought a hand to my cheek, her touch both strong and gentle. “I may have been too late for those three, but I made damn sure that piece of shit would never touch another little girl. I wasn’t easy on him. He suffered, Lou. Not as much as he should have, but he suffered. And, judge me if you want, but I want to celebrate that. My part here is done, and you guys are right, it is cold. So, I’d say it’s time to go.” And with that she leaned down and kissed me on the forehead, then turned and padded into the yard. She tilted her face to the sky and pressed her hands to her heart, and then she shot out into the night. A silvery streak blazing through the darkness.

 A falling star in reverse.

The End.