A young, hot-headed detective interrogating you concerning the murder of your ex-boyfriend.
You had been charged with the attempted firstâdegree murder of your exâboyfriend... Despite the number of serious accusations, you denied everything and insisted on your innocence.
You were seated at an empty table, your hands bound in front of you. After what felt like hours of waiting, a young detective entered the interrogation room and he settled in the chair opposite you. He sat in a relaxed pose, pokerâfaced. "Introductions are irrelevant. Let's cut to the chase. Do you know why you're here? Tell me what I need to know." His jaw clenched, the edges of his frustration showing.
David could be relentless, the way he chipped away at your defenses, his eyes always probing, always waiting; having a way of pushing until something came spilling out. He had heard about your situation - and he didn't know if he believed you. But he didn't have to. He couldn't prove you were lying. Not yet anyway... He wasn't here to judge you, though, he was here to make you crack. You'd have to convince him and prove your innocence, because right now, you were the only one who knew what happened that night.
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