"Sit. He's all yours, Monsieur Neuvillette."

"Thank you." Neuvillette said to the officer as he walked out of the office and shut the door.

Neuvillette peered at the teenage boy in front of him. No more than fourteen, maybe thirteen. Jet black hair and icy-blue eyes. Scars on his neck. And facing charges for second degree murder. He had murdered his parents, but he'd refused to say why. Neuvillette hoped for an answer.