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some kind of abuse."
    "Did you treat her for this?" Jeffrey asked.
    "Of course not," Sara answered. "I would have reported it. Any doctor would have reported it."
    "Okay," Jeffrey said, holding up his hands. Her tone must have been sharper than Sara realized, because Lena seemed to be taking a sudden interest in the floor.
    Sara turned back to the X ray. "There's also evidence of trauma around the costal cartilage, which is here in the rib." She pointed to the chest film. "Up here, near the sternum, there's bruising that's consistent with a hard push or shove, moving posteriorly. That's to the back." She let this sink in, wondering if Jenny had seen another doctor for this. A first-year resident would recognize something was not right with this kind of injury.
    Sara said, "I would guess the person who did this was taller than her. It's recent, too."
    Sara popped a new X ray into the light box. She crossed her arms over her chest, studying the film. "This is the pelvic girdle," she explained. "Note the fade line here against the ischium. This would indicate traumatic pressure to the pubis. It's what's commonly referred to as a stress fracture."
    "Stress from what?" Jeffrey asked.
    Sara was surprised when Lena provided the answer to Jeffrey.
    "She was raped," Lena said, the same way she might say the girl's eyes were blue. "Raped hard. Right?"
    Sara nodded, and was about to say something else when she heard footsteps on the stairs again. She guessed from the sloppy lope that Brad had returned.
    "Here you go," Brad said, walking backward through the door. He held an armful of sheets, his hat dangling from his hand.
    Sara stopped him, asking, "Did you get pillowcases?"
    "Oh," Brad said, surprised. He shook his head. "Sorry, no."
    "I think they're on the top floor," Sara said. "Could you get at least four?"
    "Yes, ma'am," he answered, setting the sheets down on a table by the door.
    Lena crossed her arms as he left. "He's not twelve," she said.
    Jeffrey spoke to Lena for the first time since she had entered the morgue, giving her an uncharacteristic, "Shut up."
    Lena colored, but she was silent; also out of character.
    "The bruising on her chest couldn't really be treated with anything other than Tylenol," Sara continued. "The pelvic fracture could heal on its own. It might explain why she had weight gain recently. It would be hard for her to get around."
    Jeffrey asked, "You think the boyfriend was abusing her?"
    "Someone was," Sara said, looking over the films again, trying to see if she had missed anything. All the times she had seen Jenny Weaver, Sara had never suspected child abuse. How the child had kept it hidden, and why, Sara did not know. Of course, it wasn't as if Sara ordered X rays for sore throats, Jenny didn't take off her clothes, evidently and Jenny had never taken off her clothes for an examination. Teenage girls were very sensitive about their bodies, and Sara had always slipped her stethoscope under Jenny's shirt to listen to her chest and lungs so the girl would not be embarrassed.
    Sara walked over to the table to resume the preliminary examination. Her hands shook slightly as she pulled back the sheet, and Sara was so absorbed in trying to get her hands to stop shaking that she did not notice what she was uncovering.
    "Holy shit," Lena said, giving another low whistle.
    Jeffrey did not reprimand her this time, though, and Sara understood why. There were small cuts across the girl's body, specifically on her arms and legs. The wounds were at various stages of healing, but some of them looked as recent as the last few days.
    "What happened?" Jeffrey asked. "Was she trying to kill herself?"
    Sara looked at the slices marking the skin. None of them was across the wrist or in places that would be apparent to anyone who was not looking for something specific. This would at least explain why the girl was wearing a long-sleeved shirt in the middle of summer. Thin rows of very deep cuts lined Jenny's left forearm,