A Chicago PD Au fanfiction | Hollow

Twentysix

-Jen's pov-

I'm sitting in a cell. There is something disturbing about this concrete box I'm in but it's not that it's small. It's because it has been engineered with absolute precision. The corners are sharp and straight, the door is a perfect rectangle with evenly spaced bars. This place is designed to do so much more than to just keep people from running away, this room is supposed to make people go crazy about what made them end up in here.

It's not a jail cell, I'm not going to be here for days. This is more like a "hold up cell" and I've been here for a little bit less than two hours. I feel okay for now, I'm not crazy and I'm not going to be until they say I'm guilty for this murder.

I hear how a key get inserted into the lock, the door opens but nobody get inside. I move my sight from the roof to the door. An unfamiliar woman stands in front of the door, arms crossed over her chest and determined look. Despite that, she looks pretty nice.

"Let's go" She say.

I get up and willingly let her cuff my hands in front of me, there's no idea to try to do something. I know that, because I've tried before.

That story didn't end up well and it was kind of embarrasing so lets not bring that one up.

We reach another room. It has the same sharp and precise design with a huge mirror placed in the middle of one wall. But everyone know that it isn't a mirror. There are people standing behind, watching your every move.

I sit down on the chair and look through the mirror to show the people that might stand behind there that I know they are there, watching me. The woman doesn't follow me into the room, she close the door and leave me alone.

I have to wait for what feels like five minutes, it could be more or less in real life.

"Jennifer Kaye" the shorter FBI agent says as he walk into the room and sit down on the other side of the table "I'm Tom Harris and I'm running this investigation, all your questions will go through me"

He study my look, he doesn't say anything neither does he show any sign that I should say something. I guess that's what the Fed's do, or, I know that's what the Fed's do.

"We know about your history, what you've done and why you're out of jail for now so as long as you don't have any question about that we should get going" He say.

"Let's get going then" I say politely.

He open the brown folder he brought with him in and pick out a photo, it's of the dead man I found.

"Clark Wray, 32 years old, he got a 6 year old son named Stephen" Tom says and place another photo in front of me. The boy is really cute.

The silence spread in the room, he look at me and I look back. I'm not sure if he want me to say something or not. He might be studying my expression again.

"I don't know him" I say. "I've already told you that I don't know what happened to him and why because I didn't do it" I continue, but still with a calm and nice tone.

"Can you tell me why you were there?" He ask.

"I was secretly seeing an old friend who had information about a case the inteligence unit from 21 is working with at the moment" I say.

Tom turn around and look at the mirror, I can bet pretty hard that at least one person is leaving that room right now to find out what the case is about.

"And who is this friend?" He ask polietly.

"Peyton Coulsyn , 19, she's been doing crimes for several years but there are never proof enough to get her in jail" I say "A year ago I was doing what she does now, and I deepy regret it by now" I continue.

There's a knock on the door, a guy stick in his head and look at Tom, then at me. When Tom get up from his chair I feel a slight panick attack spread inside me.