“And why do you think I killed this guy?” I lean back in the uncomfortable metal chair, my wrists handcuffed to the table. I look over the detective sitting opposite me, in the prettiest dress, her hair done up in a braid. She had pearls hanging from her ears, and a silver locket necklace with sapphires.

She looked like she came straight from a fancy dinner, like she’d solved the ‘murder’ over a nice steak. She studies me back, her brows furrowed and her eyes narrowed. I almost want to laugh.

She plays with the pedant suspended from her neck. I asked her why she wore it earlier, she simply stated that every woman has her secrets, and that she doesn’t want to share hers with a murderer. A valid point, but I just scoffed, she intrigues me, whether I want her to or not.

“Look, detective, I didn’t kill him, I haven’t seen this man in my life.” I lie, obviously, I’ve managed to slip under the radar from the authorities for a while, and I’m not slipping up now.

It’s not that I couldn’t get out of prison, in fact, it’s quite the opposite. A prison break for someone like me would be as easy as riding a bike, executing it anyway. The setup and planning is tiring, and I’d rather have a clean record, even if it’s because I’ve gotten away with all my crimes..

I lean forward, and she leans back, relaxing her breathing. “But, detective, I wouldn’t mind seeing you again,” I resist the urge to wink, little miss happy doesn’t seem like the type to fall for my usual charm, so I grin instead, “and, well, you know where I live.”