Author's Note: Thank you so much for my first review! I appreciate your kind words. You know the drill, I own nothing.


Nick Burkhardt sat beside the police department's sketch artist and watched as he drew the face on paper.

"Yeah. Her face was a little round, hair went down her back, and she had oval shaped eyes." He went on describing the fifteen year old girl, who he'd recently discovered shared his abilities, and wasn't shy about using them, either.

"Okay. This about right?" The artist propped up his sketch pad and showed Nick the penciled image.

"Yeah. I think that's about right. I didn't really get a good look at her." How true that was. Once her disguise of a wig and sunglasses had fallen off, she had only looked him in the eye for about a split second before bolting out the door.

"I don't mean to pry," the sketch artist said, "but why are you looking for this girl?"

"She looked to me like she might need some help." He also worried that was true, too.

"Well, I'll run it through the system and see what comes up."

"Thanks," Nick replied as the sketch artist walked away toward his computer. Nick looked down at the picture of the girl. "Who are you?"


"Well, what do you think?" Jamie asked. No answer. "Hello? Earth to Sarah."

Sarah blinked a few times, snapping out of her haze. "Sorry, what?"

"I said, 'Còmo limpio el gato.' Does that sound right?"

"Depends," she replied easily.

"On what?" Jamie asked, recognizing the tone.

"On if you're trying to say, 'I clean the cat,'" she laughed.

"Uhh…" Jamie groaned, slamming her Spanish book closed. "How do you do this?" They were sitting on the floor of Sarah's room doing homework.

"I have my strengths," she replied with a smile.

"Yeah. Just tell me how to find your weaknesses."

"You want my weaknesses?" Sarah replied. "Check out my chem grades."

"You know, I think we need a break. How about we hit the movies?"

"Um, actually I can't." Partly because of what happened last time, she thought. "I'm going to be busy looking for work at the animal shelter."

"Of course you are."

"We can go on Saturday."

"Sure." Jamie gathered up her books and left.

"As if friendship wasn't hard enough before," Sarah sighed, falling back on her bed.

She turned her head and looked into the bathroom. Walking in, she lifted the mirror lid off her hiding hole and pulled out a file. She slowly leafed through the newspaper clippings. Kids had been disappearing and reappearing, shell-shocked from torture.

One of the clippings displayed a picture of a mother clinging to her daughter, sobbing while the little girl looked toward the camera with dazed look. Below the picture was a quote from the mother. 'This can't keep happening. Someone has to do something.'

Sarah reached into her hiding hole and pulled out her knife. She gazed out the nearby window. "Someone will," she said simply.


Nick stared at his computer screen, waiting for info on the new Grimm girl.

"What'cha looking at?" his partner, Hank, asked as he approached his desk.

"Nothing," Nick replied vaguely.

"So, this would have nothing to do with that girl you asked the sketch artist to draw?"

"He told you?"

Hank handed Nick a flash drive. "Yeah. Asked me to give you this." He sat down in his chair. "Just tell me, does she have something to do with the kidnappings?"

"She might," Nick replied, putting the flash drive into the computer. They watched as information popped up on the screen.

"Wow," Nick said.

Hank patted Nick on the shoulder. "Well, my friend, you sure know how to pick 'em."


Over at Monroe's house, Nick threw the stack of printed pages on the table. "Sarah Miller," he said as Monroe started reading the pages.

"Born in Maine and raised by her grandma after her mom died when she was four. Dead-beat dad. Geez, this kid's had a hard life." Monroe shook his head as he looked at the picture on the front page of the file.

"Keep reading," Nick said simply.

"After her grandmother died of a brain tumor, she spent two years... in a psychiatric facility?"

"I know." Nick paced in front of the table. "Freaked me out, too, but check out why."

"Intense delusions of fictitious creatures," Monroe quoted from the file. "She was seeing Wesen?"

"And getting locked up because of it," Nick added. "When I first started seeing things I had my aunt to tell me the truth, but Sarah... She had no one. All she knew was that she was seeing things others couldn't."

"That others couldn't," Monroe repeated and nodded before continuing. "But it looks like she figured it out somehow."

"Yeah. I just wish I knew how," Nick mumbled as he leaned against the wall.

"Well, why don't you just ask her?" Monroe asked, handing Nick a single sheet from the stack.


Sarah crouched in front of the dryer once it had finished with her shirt. She folded it up as small as she could and tucked it in her book bag. She walked into the office were Laura, one of the social workers who ran the place, was typing on her laptop.

"Hey, Sarah. What's up?"

Sarah pulled out her usual excuse for her Grimm duties. "I was thinking of going out for walk later. That okay?" she asked with an innocent smile.

"Sure, I don't see a problem with that," Laura replied, smiling back. "But…"

"I know, I know. I'll do my homework first," Sarah said as she began to turn out of the office.

"No, actually there's a visitor for you."

"I have a visitor?" she asked, shocked at the thought of it.

"Yes. They're waiting in your room."

With that, Sarah ran up the stairs. Who could it be? She was just outside the door when she realized her bag was open. Not wanting to be questioned on why she was harboring a set of black clothes in her school bag, she began to zip it up while she propped the door open with her elbow. Her head dipped down to secure the zipper while walking over the threshold. A dark-haired wig fell at her feet. Sarah instantly looked up into the face of the dark-haired man, who was sitting on the edge of her bed. One hand was cupping his chin while the other was holding the knife that she had left at his house. For a while they both just looked at each other. Sarah wondered whether or not she should be happy at the sight of the fellow Grimm, or if she should be holding a knife, too.

Nick, however, wondered what kind of person this fifteen year old girl was that he was about to meet.

"Hello, Sarah," Nick said calmly.


Author's Note: Well, what do you think?

Leave a review if you want me to keep writing!