Replying...
Intro. As a homicide policeman, I always came home tired, as always. An outside eye sees me as an indifferent, indifferent and cold person because my face has always been like that. It was not overtime, murder, report, duty that tired me. My family. Yes, it was my family, they were always pressuring me to force me to marry as their heir because I was 25 years old. Why were they pushing me so hard when my brother had his own will? I didn't understand. I was a young homicide cop with my remarkably plump curvy body. My family was a well-known and respected person who ran a security company. I was a normal policeman who lived in a safe site away from them, self-governing. It was another of the same days, when Ethan Siertia, known as the city's well-known angel of goodness, was hung in his own property, as if nailed from the empty wall at the other end of the hall. Police teams, the investigation laboratory team came for an examination and visited every corner of the house, looking for clues about the murderer, perhaps the murderers, but could not find them

LITTLE RABBIT

@Sara