text: "Rose darling, wake up!"
  
  A tousled dark head appeared from under the covers, and Amélie Carlisle couldn't hide a smile.
  
  Rose squinted up at her mother and yawned heavily.
  
  "Don't you remember Rose? Tonight is your first ball, and I want you to spend all day getting ready. You never know who will be there." Amélie winked at her daughter as she helped Rose sit up.
  
  Rose gave a little sigh. She longed to sleep in just a bit longer. She turned away from her mother and said in a sleepy voice:
  
  > say "Fine, I'll get up."
  "That's my girl!" Amélie smiled proudly and smoothed back Rose's tangled dark hair.
  
  "We can start with a nice hot bath," she continued, as her daughter struggled to get out of bed.
  
  "Mmm, now that sounds perfect." Rose looked up at her mother and smiled her thanks.
  
  Together the two women heated up buckets and buckets of water and filled the large tub up in Rose's room little by little.
  
  Eventually Rose found herself sitting in the tub, surrounded by steaming hot water and fluffy white bubbles. She tilted her head back and sighed deeply. The hot water felt so good. She decided the bath had made it worth it to get out of bed after all.
  
  Amélie sat down on Rose's bed and watched her daugher play with the soap suds as if she was a child again.
  
  "I remember when I was getting ready for my first ball..."
  
  Rose concentrated on her mother's soft voice as she began telling her story.
  
  > Rose listens...
  "I had just met your father. It was love at first sight. We had spent little time together prior to the ball, but we did love each other, and George just didn't want to go without me. I was afraid of what everyone would think of me, after all, George comes from a long line of blue-blooded Englishmen."
  
  Amélie stood and began to pace the room, lost in her memories. Rose silently got out of the tub, dried herself off, and slipped into a clean nightgown. The maid, Hannah, appeared out of nowhere and began to brush out Rose's long, shiny dark hair. Amélie continued with her story without noticing the activity going on around her.
  
  "George told me he was proud of me, so then I decided I would go to the ball with him, regardless of what people would think or say. So we went. People started, and people whispered, and George's parents were humiliated. But George and I had the time of our lives. Neither of us really noticed anyone around us. Then we got home from the ball."
  
  Amélie's voice cracked, and a single tear escaped down her cheek as she remembered. Rose got up and went to her mother, putting her arms around the older woman comfortingly. Amélie smiled briefly and went on.
  
  "George's parents told me to leave and never come back. They told him that he could never be seen with a Frenchwoman or it would the end of the family. George argued with his parents, while I stood there helplessly."
  
  Amélie paused, starting straight ahead, unseeing.
  
  "I left. I couldn't bear the thought that George would be looked down on for the rest of his life because of me. But George found eventually found me. He told me he didn't care. All he cared about was me."
  
  Rose let her mother go and Amélie began to pace again, but this time she was smiling.
  
  "George won my heart over time, and then we got married. At first George's parents disowned him and I, but after our daughter was born, they softened. Eventually people got used to me, and George and I were accepted back into his family."
  
  Rose looked into her mother's eyes. "I never grow tired of that story. I hope I can find love like you did mother."
  
  "You will my dear. You never know- you may even find your suitor tonight." Amélie drew her daughter into her arms and kissed the top of her head.
  
  Finally she let go and smiled at Rose. "Let's get you dressed, huh?"
  
  Rose smiled back and led the way to her closet.
  
  > Rose's Closet
  Rose threw open the closet doors and scanned the long line of dresses.
  
  "I always thought the red one brought the best color in you." Amélie spoke up from behind her daughter.
  
  Rose pulled out her red dress and looked it over. It was also one of her favorites, but she had worn it several times before.
  
  Rose turned back to the closet and reached for the new dress that had just come from the tailor's. It was a beautiful shimmery pink color.
  
  "I would like to wear the red dress, but I also want to wear something new." said Rose, looking over her two choices once again.
  
  "I have an idea!" Amélie exclaimed, and then quickly disappeared from the room. She reappeared a few minutes later, rich red cloth spilling from her arms.
  
  "What is that?" asked Rose in surprise.
  
  "I just had this dress made for me, but I think it will fit you as well my dear. It's red like your favorite one, but it's also brand new!" Amélie unfolded the dress and gave her to her daughter.
  
  Rose went to try it on, and to her surprise, it fit her perfectly. It was gathered in tightly at the waist, making it look impossibly small. The skirt was full and trailed out several inches behind her, making a rustling sound as she moved. Rose looked at herself in the mirror. She noted that the color of the dress indeed made her cheeks look more pink and her eyes look more bright.
  
  Rose returned to her mother.[Themes: edutainment]
  
  You are a detective living in London, Ontario. Crime has peaked in recent years and you have often been called to aid in police investigations. You take pride in your work and have created a good reputation with the London Police. You must be careful not to lose it - otherwise you will no longer be called to help with investigations. You have also studied toxicology prior to becoming a detective - which is an asset in your ability to understand the science portion of crime.
  
  One evening, you receive a phone call from Constable Oliver Peterson, an experienced policeman and old friend.
  
  "Oliver! How have you been?" you exclaim.
  
  "I've been good, but unfortunately the reason for my call is anything but that. A body was found about an hour ago on the shores of the Thames River. As of now, there has been no identification, but we believe this case may be connected to the string of killings surrounding the Thames. Will you look at the case for us?" he asks.
  
  What do you do?
  
  [Author's Note: You are a detective called on to aid in the investigation of a brutal murder. Using forensic toxicology, you can help solve the case! This is for my final project in SCH3UE.]
  
  > turn down the case
  You are not interested in finding the killer and turn down the case.
  
  Constable Peterson is disappointed and your reputation with the London Police has been damaged.