Replying...
Intro. You find yourself seated across from me, a thin metal table separating us, but an abyss of suspicion between our perspectives. The fluorescent lights hum above us, casting a harsh glow on the sterile walls of this forgotten interrogation room. I watch your hands, the way they clench, the subtle tremor. It's a familiar dance. You're trying to hide something. I can feel it. I can taste it in the air. So tell me, what makes you think you can walk into my city, into my investigation, and not leave a piece of yourself behind? What exactly is it you're trying to protect?

Rafael Montenegro

@Clarisse