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"He sent me a package which I felt was threatening." I tried to justify, failing miserably. He raised an eyebrow as if to question my sanity.

"Did he send you a bomb?" I shook my head. "Did he tell you that he was out for blood?" I shook my head.

"Then what?" His voice grew harsh.

"His note was in riddles, and he spoke as if he knew a lot." That was all I could say.

"Jasper has always been a complex man. I\'m sure he doesn\'t mean any harm. If you want to know something, contact me." He pursed his lips. "Anything else?"

The thought suddenly came to my mind.

"Chief, you always told me to follow my instincts." He nodded, giving me the courage to go on. "I don\'t think Anthony killed my mother." His eyes narrowed.

"WHAT DOES THAT MEAN?" he roared. I would have been scared if I hadn\'t expected that reaction. "HOW CAN YOU THINK THAT?" I stared into his eyes.

"There\'s something about him... My gut tells me that he\'s not my mother\'s murderer. I believe it." His eyes blazed with anger.

"That\'s all?"

"I need proof. I won\'t believe otherwise." I needed to know if I had been fed lies all these years. I needed to know if I had pointed in the wrong direction.

He banged his head on the desk as he stood up and stomped towards the hidden vault right beside the room, which was always hidden by the door. I knew because I had seen him open it too many times. The man trusted me.

He pulled out a file and walked back to me.

"See the pictures," he sneered as we waved the file in front of my face. "I saved everything because I thought that you\'d want these, but I never thought you\'d say this!" I took the file from his hands, leaving him to his fuming.

I opened the file, looking at a set of images, yet again.

\'How many times will I have to endure this?\' I thought to myself.

I inspected each image carefully, knowing full well how the story portrayed in the pictures would end.

The first was of my mother, facing away from the camera, but her posture told me that she was waiting for someone.

The second one showed a man behind her. His head was covered in a hat and he wore distressed jeans. The picture wasn\'t as clear as I would\'ve wanted them to be, but they spoke volumes.

The next was of the man without the cap. His hair gave him away . . . It was Anthony standing with her. My mother had pulled out her gun and was pointing it at his chest.

My throat tightened as I wondered if I had been wrong.

The last image was that of Anthony... I gasped.

I could see him kneeling beside my mother\'s lifeless body, his back towards the camera. He held the knife in his hand and leaned over her body.

There was one where he was combing his hands through his hair.

He had pulled out his gun in another...

And at last, he rushed out.

I stood there frozen.

"Do you have something to say?" I could hear the anger in his voice, clearly.

"I don\'t believe these pictures... These can be lies!" I turned to him, refusing to go against my gut.

"Mia, I know more than you ever will and believe me when I say that this is no lie. Anthony Murray killed your mother." He was so sure of himself that I could feel my thoughts waver. I was becoming weak.

"Isn\'t there video footage of everything?" He shook his head. "That\'s impossible!"

"Mia, Dorian Murray\'s security camera gave us this much to work on." He stared into my eyes and pleaded me to stop.

"Pictures lie."

"So do our instincts..." We stared at each other for a minute and then I sighed.

"I won\'t believe these," I was fighting a losing battle.

"There was no one else in there, Mia," His voice broke. "You are dismissed. Go do your job."

I left silently, not looking back till I was inside the car.

My mind was filled with questions. All I could think about was if my gut had been wrong and Anthony had truly killed my mother.

\'Why am I even siding with the criminal?\' I thought to myself.

The clock on the dashboard said it was five in the morning. I had been in there for over two hours, obsessing over the idea that Anthony was innocent.

\'Was he innocent?\'

\'Are the pictures lying?\'

\'Was Chief correct?\'

\'Anthony... He\'s everything that is wrong in my life!\'

I didn\'t realize till I found myself parked in front of Anthony\'s mansion that I had driven to his place. It fifteen minutes until six, and I had been ordered to be present by nine. Now that I was here, I would wake the bloody man up from his beauty sleep and ask him for a place to crash.

\'At least he won\'t be able to accuse me of being late.\'

I pulled out my cell -phone from my purse and dialed his number. He picked up after what seemed like an eternity.

"Hello?" he replied, groggily. I help back a laugh, amused that for the first time he\'d greeted someone over the phone.

"It\'s Mia. I need a place to crash..."

"And you\'re calling me this early because?"

"I\'m standing outside your place." He growled.

"Leave and come back when you were asked to," he hissed.

"I won\'t."

"Then sleep in your damn car!" He hung up.

\'The fucking bastard hung up on me!\'

I marched right up to the mansion, picked the lock and walked in. There were no security guards to stop me. I searched for his room on the second floor and opened the door loudly.

He sat up abruptly, his hand gripping his gun.

He took in my appearance and narrowed my eyes.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" he shouted.

"I\'m here, so give me a place to crash." His eyes were instantly sparkling.

"You can sleep right here if you want to." I rolled my eyes and tapped my foot. "Don\'t act cute with me," he chuckled.

I gave him a pointed look, and he winked at me in return.

"I\'ll get you for pulling away..." he threatened in a low voice. I shrugged, knowing well that I would find a way to reject him again.

"I get what I want, Mia. Always remember that." I silently took in his words and gulped.

"First floor. The guest bedroom is empty," he finally said. His words kept replaying in my mind.

\'He always gets what he wants; he can do anything to get it.\'

And slowly, I could feel my neutrality slipping. What if he did kill my mother?

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