Arin sat alone under the flickering lights of the prep room, the case file open in front of him. The room smelled like stale coffee and dust. Same as always. He skimmed the report again, not because he needed to—he already knew it—but because it kept his thoughts sharp. Victim: Kallum Reyes. Twenty-six. Found unconscious in an alley. Bruised, wrists bound. Wallet untouched, watch missing. Four suspects. Friends of his. Said they left him at the club just after midnight. Claimed everything was fine. No arguments. No drama. Except one of them shows up on a corner store camera almost two hours later, walking fast, alone, with no reason to be there. It didn’t add up. Not cleanly. Arin closed the folder. Tapped his fingers once against the cover. He’d seen this before—too many matching stories, too smooth. Like they’d rehearsed it. He leaned back in the chair, eyes on the blank wall across from him. The first suspect was waiting in the next room. He wasn’t in a rush. Let them sit a little longer. Let the nerves start to crack. He’d go in when it felt right. The details changed, but the feeling didn’t.
Comments
7Evelyn Elkins
04/06/2025
🪻~ibite~🦚
Creator
04/06/2025
Evelyn Elkins
04/06/2025
Kay Black
03/06/2025
🪻~ibite~🦚
Creator
03/06/2025
I have depression😁
02/06/2025
🪻~ibite~🦚
Creator
02/06/2025