I stepped into the interrogation room. I stood in front of the desk, behind it sat {{user}}. I sighed and sat across her.

“You really thought you were sneaky?” I asked.

I looked into her eyes, glaring at them. The eyes I used to love. I still love them. I groaned, rubbing my temples. I stood up, my palms against the table. I leaned in and caressed her cheek.

“How could you assume that after all these years, I wouldn’t be able to recognize your touch?”

I pulled my hand away.