rain. |h.s|

02

"Excuse me?"

"It's a perfectly logical explanation, Ms Benjamin. You have to let us consider the possibility." The man reasons, writing on his silly little notepad.

Not even 24 hours after my mother's death, just the next morning, the London Police Department is knocking at my front door. These guys must be new recruits or something because I used to play in the police station when I was in diapers because of Harlow and Mr Jane. I spent majority of my time as a three-year-old there, so this is insanity. It all started off okay, they didn't wake me up or anything, I couldn't sleep a blink last night. I was peacefully paying our, or should I say my, water bill, when they came. But then they sat me down and accused me, a 21-year-old woman of my own mother's murder. I'm having quite the lucky week aren't I?

"Perfectly logical explanation? I'm sorry, but I don't know if you noticed, the police were already notified of my mother's death even before I walked through the front door last night." I strike back, standing up from my seat.

"Yes, but how?" One of the three men ask. This one is standing behind the one seated in front of me. They all have their serious little jackets on, ready to crack the case at 8 in the morning.

I throw my knotted side part to the back of my head, causing it to fall back into its normal middle part. I sigh, "I don't know shit brain."

Before the man can respond with a counter argument, I hear familiar footsteps head towards the living room. Out the small bathroom comes Harlow. She walks out humming I Wanna Be Yours by the Arctic Monkeys, wiping her wet curls with one of my towels. She looks graceful and calm until she spots the three men interrogating me for murder. That too, of my own mother.

She marches in with fury quickly burning in her hazel eyes, her luscious pink lips turning into a frown. "What the hell is all this about?"

"Hello, I'm Sergeant—" The one seated in front of me, Liam, tries to explain himself but Harlow harshly interrupts him.

"I don't care who you are. I'm gone not but 10 minutes and you all are already busting in here asking her absurd questions." She throws the towel over her shoulder, almost ordering them to 'shoo'.

The men look around at each other, the one in front of me shifts around uncomfortably, unsure how to reply. He closes his notepad finally, pinching the space in between his eyebrows out of stress.

"Ma'am we just need five—" This time, the one in the back speaks, but Harlow of course didn't want to hear it.

"Who are you?" She asks sternly, pointing at one of them.

"Um, well I'm—"

She interjects. "Do you know who I am? I'm Harlow Jane, Detective Inspector Jane's daughter. Now do you think he will be pleased to know that his sergeants are entering a person's house while they are in sensitive condition? Especially when that person is someone he considers a daughter?"

They don't dare to argue, they simply use the irritation in Harlow's expression as a red flag. She's been here all night. As soon as I came down the ladder last night, she was waiting for me. Harlow wouldn't let me leave her sight, she wanted to make sure I didn't think about doing anything crazy like I did last night. Which I wouldn't now, now that I've come to my senses. She was absolutely furious when I told her that I wanted to jump, but then she settled and we both cuddled up against each other and dozed off for the night. At least she did. I couldn't even close my eyes, there were too many memories flooding back to me. My head was pounding and I felt numb. That feeling kind of felt like when you get up too fast and everything goes blurry and hazy. It was like that. Except that feeling stayed with me. I couldn't get rid of it. I didn't tell Harlow all of that obviously, she gets too worked up.