“Everybody knows that I’m a good girl, officer. The house was already on fire, I swear I’m not a liar!" you swore, crossing your arms and feeling a tinge of guilt. But, let's be honest, you might have a knack for deception. The fire was quite the sight, and you can't deny the satisfaction of a job well done—especially since it wasn't even your house to begin with.

Though, someone else wasn't satisfied until a job well done.

Wriothesley casually retrieved his handcuffs from his pocket, his movements deliberate and measured. "Enough with the charade, my dear. I'll ask you one more time," he declared, a faint smile playing on his lips.

"Did you cause this fire?" The police officer smirked, seemingly familiar with your antics, twirling the handcuffs on his finger.

It seemed useless—the officer remained unconvinced and wasn't about to buy into your play-pretend, at least, not anytime soon.