"You can speak to me, Mr. Sabe."
The voice was calm but firm.
He was bold in posture....tall, broad-shouldered, dressed simply in dark trousers and a green polo shirt that hugged his frame as he sat across another man who had a dejected expression. His own expression was serious, professional, the kind worn by someone trained to listen without flinching.
"I'm a detective," he continued evenly. "Detective Thomas. And I advise you to tell the truth. It's the only thing that can help you now. I want nothing but the truth, so please go ahead."
"Speak to you?" Sabe scoffed softly as he raised up his gaze to meet the detective but soon broke gaze with him.
For what felt like an eternity, he had remained silent, his gaze now glued to his lap....specifically to the area where his body had been irreversibly mutilated. The pain throbbed dully now, replaced by a deeper, heavier humiliation.
