Within the hour, Tango was in his scrubs and mask, next to the chest. In my waiting, I pinned all of the photos to the whiteboard with magnets. I was reviewing the photos when he called me over.

"Hey, Miss Reigns." Tango calls, pulling my attention from the photo I was looking at. The chest open and all the remains inside.

"Just call me Andreah, please." I say, turning around to face him.

"Alright." He nods. "You ready to start emptying this?" He asks, raising an eyebrow and pointing to the chest. I nod, walking to the counter, grabbing gloves and a mask and throwing them on. Make my way over to him and peer into the chest.

"You two are the odd ones out." Trent says, walking into the morgue. My eyes roll skyward before settling onto the contents of the chest.

"Right off the bat, you can tell that the remains were put in the water after all flesh was stripped of the bones." I say to Tango, completely disregarding Trent. I reach in and extract the skull.

"How can you tell that, Doc?" Who said that? There's nopony of importance in here...

"Why's that?" Tango asks, I look up at him.

"The distinct lack of Adipocere." I answer. "Not only is it not layered on the wood, but it's not even present on the bones themselves."

"What's Adi-poker?" Was that a fly?

"add-ih-POH-sear." Tango spells out for his partner. Whom I am ignoring. "It's the fat that waxes up when exposed to water or high moisture areas. Something that should be present in remains such as this." He gestures to the chest. I nod, looking around the skull.

"There's too many bones in an infant to put that many in that precisely." I explain, flipping the fragile cranium over to peer inside. And in doing so, I notice a red tint to the inside.

"No, nono no. " I say worriedly, setting the skull gently into the table then looking back to Tango. "Help me find the Vertebrae." I tell him.

With both of us gingerly pulling out all 31 vertebrae.

"okay, find me c2 and c3." I demand, then have two bones in my face causing my eyes to cross. Shaking my head, I manage to focus onto the vertebrae. I lift them and inspect them, sadness and realization setting in.

Celestia, I hate working with infants.

"What is it Reigns?" Trent grunts, walking closer. Cigarette smoke wafting my way, despite the mask.

"Do you see the Transverse Process on the c2?" I ask Tango, holding out the vertebra to him. He nods. "Then look at the Spinous Processes on both. Tell me what you see."

He stays silent for a moment, inspecting both vertebra carefully. Then, "They seem to be slightly marred. As if continually slamming... into.... each...other..." He draws out. "These are symptoms of whiplash." Sadness evident in his voice. He replaces the vertebra.

"Not look at this." I instruct, holding up the skull. He grabs it out of my hoof and turns it over immediately, peering into it.

"Damn." He whispers to himself. I nod.

"What? What do you see Doc?" Trent asks, desperate to be back into the loop. Tango answers him.

"I see evidence of SFS."

"What's that?"

"Shaken Foal Syndrome. One of the most common causes of death in colts and fillies. Aside from SIDS. Or Sudden Infant Death Syndrome." I explain. A viscous sadness filling the room.

"What exactly is this SFS?" Trent asks, looking over his partner's shoulder to the remains.

"It's caused when a foal is shaken violently. Usually when a parent is agitated at their child's crying. The shaking can cause aneurysms and hemorrhaging in the child's brain caused by the brain slamming into the skull. It can also cause whiplash in the child's Cervical, as evident here. Symptoms can be things like vomiting, lethargy, bloodshot eyes, rashes, and others." I say. the despair in the room almost drowning.

"Well shit." Trent stomps the ground.

"C-can you finish laying the remains out?" I ask, my voice shaking. "I need to get some air."

Tango agrees to do that for me.

I rarely have to leave the lab due to the nature of my work. But working with the remains of Foals has always been the exception. Putting this case under that category.

Now with my trench coat and holster back on, I walk the streets of Vanhoover. Allowing my hooves to take me where they wish. The breeze of the barren streets ruffles my mane as moonlight reflects off various puddles left from previous rain falls. Halogen signs buzz announcing 'MARES! MARES! MARES!' and different bars. I walk by them all until the name of one bar catches my eye. 'The Bones Of The Past'. Then the sound of jazz causes my ears to perk up. Maybe all I need is a night of music to forget the horror of my job.

Too bad that can't erase the fact of me having to return tomorrow.

Sighing heavily, I decide to walk into the bar.

Cigarette and cigar smoke mixed with varies alcohol and attempts of eradicating the odor permeate the high ceilinged building. On the far wall is the actual bar, a variety of alcohols on shelves sit behind the bartender. Tables and chairs litter the area leading up to a stage. On the stage is a band and two singers. The female singer has a yellow coat and a black mane. Her Cutie Mark a lighter yellow canary singing. The other singer looks stunningly close to Silver. Aside from the lack of red hooves and the hoofcuffs on his flank. The Singer's Cutie Mark is some kind of musical symbol interlocked with another.

I watch as the band starts Fetlock Sineightra's 'You're Nopony Until Somepony Loves You'.

"Ma'am?"

I jump back to reality and look at the waitress who said that. She's orange and black, her Cutie Mark a shot glass.

"Yes?" I answer.

"Would you like a table?" She asks, waving a hoof at the majority of empty tables.

"Sure," I nod. She leads me to a table closer to the stage.

You're a nopony, until somepony loves you
You're a nopony, until somepony cares

"Dinner or drink menu?"

"Both please," I respond, getting a happy nod. She then wanders off.

You may be prince, you may possess, Equestria's gold
But gold won't bring you harmony, when you're growin' old

The world still is the same, you'll never change it
As sure as the stars shine above

His voice is smooth and beautiful and charming in it's own way. Yet there's the hint of inexperience in his voice.

"Here's you're menus," The waitress tells me, setting them down on the table next to me. "How long do you plan on staying?"

"As long as he's singin'" I point to the singer.

"Ah, yes," She looks at him. "Micro Song. He started singing with Canary Melody. She was a regular here, then one day he came here with her. They've been singing here for almost a year now. He doesn't have a schedule. He just leaves and arrives when he chooses. " She informs me. I nod, thanking her.

You're a nopony, 'till somepony loves you
so find yourself somepony...

to love

My Hayburger and hashbrowns came soon after my hard cider. Every now and then Micro Song would change places with Canary Melody. Each of them playing an instrument when not singing. Micro played the bass and Canary played the piano. It's amazing how one instrument can do different types of music.

I'd just finished my cider and was beginning to doze off when somepony sat across from me. Canary was singing in the background.

"You look familiar."

I shake my woozy head in an attempt to clear it only making my eyes cross. Blinking a bunch, I look up at the stallion across from me.

"D- *hic* Dad?"

Author's Note

I love having to resurch Equine anatomy because i know nothing about it...

Well, that's how you learn.

In the writing of this chapter, I realised that I am focusing very little on the case. That'll change in the next case. I'll finish this one the way it's going.