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Vanessa’s face hardened as she glared at the group of suspects, her hands trembling slightly despite her efforts to stay composed.
“Stop spewing nonsense!” she barked.
The ringleader shrugged, his voice oozing mock innocence.
“If you think I’m lying, that’s on you. I’m just cooperating with the investigation. It’s not my fault if you don’t believe me.”
Detective Boone looked ready to explode, but Vanessa placed a hand on his arm, signaling for restraint. She turned back to the suspect, her voice trembling but firm.
“You’re saying… the person you beat was my son? Are you sure?”
“Of course, we’re sure. When he called you, your picture showed up on the screen. We’re
not blind.”
Vanessa closed her eyes briefly, her breath hitching as she struggled to maintain
composure.
ᄆᄆ
I stomped around in frustration, wanting nothing more than for them to stop talking.
Enough! Don’t say another word! Don’t hurt her more than you already have!
But then, a bitter thought struck me. Would she even care? She’s never cared before.
No. No matter how strained our relationship was, no parent could bear losing their child, not after losing their spouse, too.
Vanessa took a deep breath, steadying herself before speaking again, her voice low and
icy.
“Even if you saw my picture on his phone, why should I believe you? You’re nothing but
liars trying to save your skins.”
The ringleader laughed again, the sound grating.
“Your son’s name is Elijah Hartman, right? Just graduated high school? Scored high enough to get into the police academy, but you wouldn’t let him go? Ring a bell?”
Vanessa froze, her face turning pale. The detail was too specific–only someone who
overheard their phone call would know.
“Who told you that?! Did you read some rumors online? Is this just some sick game to rile
me up?!”
Her voice cracked, her bloodshot eyes brimming with unshed tears.
“Lady, we didn’t need to go online. Your kid told us when he called you. We heard every word you said,” the suspect sneered.
“Yeah,” chimed in another. “You told him he was a waste of space, that he could do whatever he wanted as long as he didn’t ‘taint the name of the DEA.‘ Sound familiar?”
“Honestly, you were right,” the ringleader smirked. “He wasn’t cut out for the job. Too weak. Probably would’ve gotten himself killed anyway.”
Another suspect chimed in, chuckling.
“Nah, I think he was tougher than he looked. Took our beating without a peep. Got some guts, I’ll give him that.
They spoke about me like a broken toy, something to be discarded without a second thought. Their casual cruelty made my nonexistent blood boil.
Vanessa, unable to take any more, collapsed into a chair. A junior officer caught her
before she hit the floor.
“Dr. Sterling, maybe you should step out for a bit?”
Vanessa shook her head weakly, her lips tight
“No. I need to hear everything. I need to know what they’ve done.”
Her glare locked onto the suspects, daring them to keep speaking.
The ringleader smirked, relishing her pain.
“Your son was weird, though. When he got in trouble, most people would call the cops.
But no, he called you. Big momma’s boy. Guess he couldn’t let go of the apron strings.”
Their laughter rang out, each word a new dagger to Vanessa’s heart.
“Yeah, and when you shut him down, he looked so crushed and stopped crying after that, though. Real quiet. Kinda boring, honestly.”
Boone slammed his fist down.
“Enough! Not one more word that isn’t related to the case! Do you hear me?”
The suspects fell silent, their smug expressions unfazed. Boone motioned for an officer
to escort Vanessa out of the room.
Vanessa, barely able to stand, muttered under her breath,
“No. It can’t be him. They didn’t kill my son. I don’t believe it. I won’t believe it…”
The officer helped her to her feet, leading her toward the door just as Rachel burst in.
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