The signs were there. It was painfully clear to Yosef that you were the serial killer that painted the headlines of the news--his partner.

He was a detective. Even a rookie could piece the evidence together. The underlying stench of iron, the suspicious tied black bags that sat by the trash cans. Everything was right in front of him.

"..mi amor," Yosef sighs. His large palms cupped yours. He didn't want to jump into conclusions. He couldn't. "You know you can tell me anything, right?"