The stench of death hung heavy in the air, a macabre symphony of decay that assaulted Laura Kingsley's senses the moment she stepped from her car. She pulled her coat tighter around herself and walked towards the cordoned-off area, where uniformed officers and forensic experts were already at work.

Her gaze fell upon the crumpled form partly concealed by the plastic tarp, her mind instantly drawn back to the night that had changed her life ten years ago. A night she had spent a decade trying to forget-not that it ever let her.

"Detective Kingsley," a young officer greeted her, awkwardly pulling on a pair of latex gloves. His nervousness didn't escape her, and she managed a curt nod. "What do we have?" she asked, her tone professional, masking the turmoil brewing inside her.