Forensic anthropology student Alice Wheeler had thought she'd seen it all. From her studies under Dr. Temperance Brennan at the Jeffersonian Institute, she'd encountered the skeletal remains of burn victims, the drowned, warriors from ancient civili...
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Alice's gaze was fixed on the mirror in front of her; the shocked expression she wore earlier had faded. This Alice appeared distant. It was as if her eyes were not seeing what was in front of them. She was off in her head, recounting the events that happened that morning. She had hoped this was all just some big misunderstanding. This was the work of some fanatical killer. Aiden couldn't have done this.
It simply wasn't possible.
Her arm was slung across her body, constricting her stomach. She feared that if she'd let go, that awful egg sandwich would come back up again. She's played the moment Aiden came into the lab, again and again. There wasn't anything sinister in his smile- was there? When he signed the guard's book, did he get some sort of sick gratification? No. She wasn't going to let herself spiral into doubt. Aiden Wheeler was not a murderer.
Her eyes refocused on the mirror, where a younger version of herself stared back at her. She widened her eyes, jumping back in her chair- the mirrored version of herself was doing the same as it was back to normal in an instant, "Hello?" she called out, hoping someone would come inside eventually. She didn't know how long she'd been sitting there, maybe ten minutes, maybe an hour.
"Sorry for the wait Miss Wheeler," The tall, scrawny man from earlier entered the room. A dark-haired woman she hadn't seen before was by his side, "Are you alright? It looked like something startled you."
Alice nodded, "I'm fine, thanks," she said simply. It was just her mind playing tricks on her. It liked to do that from time to time. She stood up to shake the agent's hands, using the hand that wasn't currently holding on to her side. She felt like she was actually going to throw up now.
"I'm Dr. Spencer Reid, and this is Agent Emily Prentiss. We're just going to ask you a few questions," The man told her, the two of them sitting across the table from her, partially blocking her view of the mirror.
She looked at her reflection once more before looking at the two agents in front of her, "Sounds simple enough," she gave a harsh exhale out of her nose and a small smile. An attempt to ease the ever-growing tension, but it didn't work. Speaking to people wasn't her strong suit, unless it was about something she knew. That's why she got on so well with her coworkers. She could talk about fungus and bugs, and they wouldn't bat an eye.
Casual conversation and interrogation tactics, however, were not things she knew.
"How long have you been living with your brother?" The woman, Prentiss, asked her while glancing at the papers in the folder in front of her.
Alice's eyes flitted between the two before she answered, "A little over a year now." The nerves inside her stomach twisted and twirled like an acrobat, "I was living on my own here for a while before that."
"And where was Aiden living before then?" Emily asked, looking up at her now.
Alice swallowed thickly, the two of them staring at her like vultures hovering over a meal. She guessed that meant she was the carcass, defenseless and already dead, "We both lived on our Aunt and Uncle's farm in Wyoming before that."
