To Your End

July 12, 2022

There's something unnerving about sitting in the waiting area of a city hall when you know your life is hanging by a thread. The air was heavy with tension, and my nerves were frayed. Maria sat beside me, her leg bouncing uncontrollably. Naveen paced near the window, rubbing the back of his neck every few seconds. Norah and Hugo leaned against the far wall, whispering furiously to one another.

Ava was gone. Taken by the police three days ago. None of us had slept well since. And now, to top it all off, we were all jobless.

"Do you think they know?" Naveen whispered, breaking the silence.

"They don't," Maria whispered back firmly, though her voice wavered slightly. "They're fishing. We just have to stick to the story."

Norah scoffed. "Everyone in the office thinks we're involved." We all looked at her. Nobody noticed Naveen and Maria were whispering.

Hugo crossed his arms, his jaw tightening. "We weren't fired because of suspicion. They're just scared of bad PR."

"Doesn't matter why they fired us," Maria snapped. "What matters is getting to know the truth."

Before anyone could argue further, a young officer opened the door. "Una Octivious," he called, his tone clipped.

I felt my stomach drop. Maria squeezed my arm reassuringly as I stood.

"You've got this," she whispered.

I wasn't so sure.

The interrogation room was sterile and cold. A single table, two chairs, and a large mirror that was undoubtedly two-way glass. Sitting across from me was Detective Emily Roiss. She looked sharp, her blond hair pulled into a tight bun, her piercing blue eyes locked onto mine. Her demeanor radiated competence and control—she was a woman who wasn't here to waste time.

"Miss Octivious," she began, her voice calm but firm. "I'm Detective Emily Roiss, and I'll be handling your friend Dean Harrison's case."

I nodded, my throat dry.

"Let's start with the basics," she said, clicking a pen and pulling out a notepad. "The night Dean died, you were the last person he contacted. Can you tell me about that?"

I took a deep breath, steeling myself. "Yes. He texted me, asking me to come over. But I was at a party at the time and... well, I was drunk. I couldn't go."

Her eyes narrowed slightly. "Yet, you replied 'coming.'" She flipped a paper on her clipboard, presumably a record of our texts.

I felt a bead of sweat slide down my back. "I was drunk," I said quickly. "I didn't know what I was saying."

Her gaze stayed steady, unblinking. "Where was this party?"

"Rail Sports Bar and Lounge," I replied without hesitation.

Detective Roiss leaned back in her chair, a small, almost amused smile tugging at her lips. "You're lying," she said matter-of-factly.

My heart skipped a beat. "Excuse me?"

"Camino Real was closed that night because of an accident," she continued, folding her hands on the table. "I know because I was there. So, let's try again. Where were you?"

My mind raced. The story Maria, Naveen, and I had painstakingly crafted was crumbling faster than I could patch it up. "I..." My voice faltered. "We were at a picnic," I said finally.