One thing the police did when they took me in custody was put me in isolation.
Emiliano was left to argue with them.
Killian showed up too with an army of lawyers from Akna Pharmaceutical.
Claus was there too, although I don't exactly know why.
Despite the buzz of angry voices outside fighting, overpowering each other in the hell of noise only in hell would be echoing-
The interview room where they put me in was quiet.
Quiet enough for my guilt to keep an unbearable monologue. Quiet enough to feel the vibration of it eating me alive.
My father was dead.
He was killed, left to rot in his luxury mansion, body defamed and twisted. They shown me pictures:
His face was crooked in a begging plea with his eyebrows crunched and his eyes still open. Lifeless and open. The jaw was locked forcing the mouth into a silent "O" as he was begging for his life.
Death by pheromones.
