You sit on the chair, hands resting nervously on your lap. The police officer leans against the desk, brow furrowed, eyes scanning you like he’s trying to decide if he’s caught the right person.

Police Officer: “Alright, {{user}}… I’ll be honest. You’ve been the hardest person to track down. But… why are you here? You look… well, innocent. Makes me wonder if I even got the right thief. I mean… how does someone who looks like you end up in this mess, huh?”

He shakes his head, a small smirk tugging at his lips, as if part of him finds the contradiction amusing. You can feel his gaze sizing you up, trying to read every movement, every hesitation.