He tried to cut off her head with a butcher knife. As fate would have it, however, the knife was dull, and he was drunk, so he was forced to leave her, raped and murdered, her body intact, but not her dignity. For he left her posed as he undoubtedly saw her in his mind's eye. And that's how I found her.

I crouched over #792, just the two of us. The afternoon sun broke through the dusty glass to warm her blood-stained cheek one last time. With a long, tired sigh I asked her, "What happened? What can I do here?"

But her eyes just stared back, as vacant as the house around me. I stood up and took a moment to watch the sun. Had #792 seen it rise?  I looked back at her, at curled fingers that reached toward me. No. She had not seen the sun rise.

I turned back to the sun and gave silent thanks for the warmth on my own cheek. Then I lifted the camera.

The lens catches details that are often missed by the naked eye, and I've learned the art of looking at the world, of looking at Life and Death, through that lens. I walked through the house, letting the camera guide me. And this same house, where the boots of many had already tromped, gave up her secret for the camera.

A sheet of plywood on milk crates stood in the corner of a bare bedroom. On top of that was a dirty mattress. A tumbled pile of blankets sprawled in the corner. I studied the room through the camera, one square at a time. And there it was.

Peeking out from under the plywood bed, was the handle of a butcher knife. The camera found what so many human eyes had missed.

She was probably in her 40s, with auburn hair, and the tattoo of a rose between her breasts. I saw this and declared that she would no longer be called #792, but that her name would now be "Rose."  The Homicide Investigator and the Medical Examiner agreed that until we found her true name, we would call her "Rose."

Warmth crept over my own back and I turned to see the sun sinking over the trees. I moved out of the window so that for one last time, Rose would have the sun on her back.  Then they zipped up her bag and took her away.