Rain drops tapped the clear glass, struggling to enter the dimly lit office. Sweat started to soak Jimin's forehead as he looked through the same case files. "Something's missing", he mumbled. His left hand tapped the handles of his seat, he pulled his pen to his lips.
A murder.
20 year old female.
Trauma to head.
Writing on the wall. In blood.
"2-7-3"
A birthday perhaps? Apartment number? Zip code?
The clock ticks seemed to get louder as Jimin reached dead ends. The rain seemed to get heavier, as the sky got darker. 9:37 pm
Drip. Drop. Drap.
The click of heels interrupted his focus. Running his fingers through his long black hair, he let out of a sigh of frustration.
"Mr. Park"
Elaine's petite figure at the center of the doorway.
"Yes?", Jimin responded, playing with the black pen in his hand.
"More coffee?", she suggested.
"No, no thank you. I'll be going for the day". Jimin stuffed the papers into his suitcase. The eager first year strides to the coat rack to him Jimin into his blazer.
Click. Clack.
"Ah, thank you".
"Good night Mr. Park", she smiled, her dimples showing.
"Good night Elaine"
With suitcase in hand he was off.
Drip. Drop. Drap.
Click. Clack.
