Closer on the Upper East Side of Manhattan, Bette sat curled up in her favorite sofa which faced her French doors. She starred out at her to die for view of the city and reminisced about the night before. Everything had happened so quickly, she hardly had time to catch her breath. Without even a trace of a mobile number left behind, Bette only had one thought running through her mind: Gen Taylor.

***

From somewhere in the distance, an alarm blared, awakening Gen from her slumber. She rolled off her bed and sat facing her bedroom windows in total darkness. Work started at 8am, which gave her exactly two hours to get changed, grab her must have morning Starbucks Triple-Grande-Vanilla-Latte and head down to the office for her first day.  Having chosen her outfit the night before, Gen slowly made her way to turn on the heater, before curling up on the sofa for her mandatory extra ten minutes.

Her short hair was still wet from her much needed hot shower as Gen stood starring at the outfit she had picked out and ironed. I must have been blind or high, Gen thought to herself before she started to rummage through her closet again for another outfit. She finally settled on a simple olive green striped blouse, and her gray suit. She sat on her sofa and strapped on her boots, double checked her stylishly waxed hair before grabbing her trench coat and walking out of her apartment. As she walked down her street to the subway, it began to drizzle slightly. Gen frowned. She hated rain. It was going to be a long day, Gen decided with a sigh.

◊◊◊

ID card, wallet, keys, mobile, thumb-drive, notes, iPod and I’m set, Bette thought with a smile as she did her usual run down of her most important items in her Kate Spade. Today, she had an important meeting with the Forensic team to discuss the series of murders that had been occurring over the past year in Manhattan and she needed to be fully prepared. Closing this case meant everything to her. As she walked out the door, her eyes grazed across a familiar black and white photograph which stood on her mantel. Bette felt a sudden surge of sadness rush through her as she focused on the lady in the photograph. She was laughing, eye twinkling like she kept a thousand magical secrets within her. Bette picked up the photograph, trying to hold back her tears, "This one’s for you, Kit, I promise we’ll get her. I promise I will find her," she whispered. She composed herself and took a deep breath as she locked the front door.