N0 B0DY, N0 CRIM3 | Bang Chan

Like mother, like daughter

Willie Campbell was a mess behind the podium on Thursday morning. He hadn't even said anything yet. His thin lips were turned down in a frown. Dark brown bags sat beneath his eyes. His cheekbones had begun to hollow in. 

Cameras flashed and video cameras rolled. Way at the back of the crowd, there were a few large cameras airing the conference on live TV. The last time he was addressing the public, it had been over a week ago when his wife was giving her speech about the cheating rumors. It had been the last time that she had taken her final breath. 

Off to the side, his vice president stood with one hand clutched over the other. Without Kiera and Beverly around, the two of them had grown closer together. Willie had let Philip stay with him in the section of the white house where he lived. 

He had been paying attention to it all. The news stations that had been running feeds about his daughter's disappearance. The magazines that had interviewed the people that were closest with Kiera. He had even made a few comments himself, he begged for his daughter's safe return. 

His eyes slowly scanned the crowd. What they didn't know wouldn't hurt them. Looks of pity, frowns, and a few tears were being shed. How pathetic. How could some of these people mourn his daughter when they had never known her personally? 

They had gotten everything right. Kiera was intelligent and had a passion for art. Just like her mother, she enjoyed helping people. She volunteered at different places every weekend. She had loved her life and now she was dead. 

Willie knew she was dead for a fact. They had received an email from the hit-man the previous evening. Kiera had been killed and her body had been disposed of. He didn't have to worry about her anymore. Now all he had to do was address the public. 

If he wanted to secure another four years in office after the next four, he was going to do what he promised. He was going to put Stray Kids in jail. His plan was simple; turn up the heat and let the public turn on them. They could turn on one another. In a few days, he was going to put out a statement that if one of them turned on the others, they'd be able to get out of this mess without jail time. 

He didn't have to wait for the crowd to be quiet. They were already silent as they waited for him to speak. He gripped the podium and swallowed. Sucking in a deep breath, he let his eyes close for a moment before he reopened them. 

"It's very unfortunate that we have to meet again like this so soon." He barely cracked a smile before it fell away. "The last time we were here, we were addressing rumors, and now my daughter has been kidnapped." He paused for a moment before he continued to speak. "My daughter had been kidnapped." 

He watched the people in the crowd share glances with each other. He forced himself to remain composed and let the tears build up. "L-last night..." He trailed off. He closed his eyes again. 

His breathing wavered before he reopened them. "Last night, the director of the secret service administration was sent an email containing photos of my daughter's corpse." Apparently, she had been found wandering the side of a road when she was shot and killed. Just like her mom, she had been killed with a bullet to her head.  

"The search for Kiera has come to a tragic end." Tears streaked down his cheeks as he stared down at the pavement. Around him questions were thrown around from reporters. He held up shaking hands to calm the reporters down. 

"I know it was my daughter. She was identified via the birthmark on the side of her neck. Since I am the only remaining member left of my family, I had to view the photos to identify her." He glanced back up with glassy eyes. "So please forgive me if I look a little rough. This is the hardest thing I've ever had to do." 

"Last week, I had to bury my wife and this week, I should be burying my daughter, but I can't." He glanced up at the sky for a moment and shook his head. A broken chuckle escaped his chapped lips. "I know the group that murdered my wife." 

"Stray Kids?" A reporter yelled out. 

Willie nodded. "They murdered my wife and last night they took credit for killing my daughter. My lovely, lovely, precious, sweet, and wonderful daughter." A small smile appeared across his face. More tears streaked his cheeks. "They took away my pride and joy."

He glanced down as his lips quivered. A broken sob racked his body. Behind him, Philip quickly came over and whispered something into his ear. Willie shook his head and forced himself to stay at the podium. If he wanted to manipulate the public, he had to sell this. 

The sound of something behind him dropping caused his head to perk up. Multiple gasps filled the air. He sniffled and wiped the tears away from his face. Since his wife's assassination, the white house staff had opted to hold press conferences off to the side of the white house. Behind Willie, there had been a large wooden board standing up. 

The wooden board was built on wheels and a large American flag had been draped over it. It was just the background for the cameras to be able to focus on Willie. It blocked out the white house, so reporters could get clear shots of whoever was speaking.  

Philip Brooks' eyes glanced over. His eyes widened in shock. The American flag had been yanked off the board. The twenty foot wooden board had been spray painted a pitch black. Stray Kids had a clear message. 

Written in neon orange large graffiti read the following: 

DEAR MR. PRESIDENT, 

N0 B0DY,

N0 CRIM3