─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ─── My my, those eyes like fire

They crouched lower to the carpeted floors, examining the shattered glass that had come from the broken window to the White’s bedroom. It was clear that someone had forced their way into the room, as there were scuff marks on the windowsill and pieces of broken glass scattered across the floor.

The victims, Mr. and Mrs. White, were a wealthy couple living in a gated community. They were found dead in their bedroom this morning by their housekeeper.

They noticed a silver necklace lying on the floor, its chain broken. It seemed like it could have been ripped off during the struggle. They carefully bagged it as evidence, wondering if it held any significance to the case.

“Seemed like a peaceful neighborhood,” Detective Johnson said, taking notes on his notepad.

“Odd, isn’t it?” a voice came up from behind them. They turned, greeting the FBI agent. He had tousled brown hair that fell into his hazel eyes, which were framed by a pair of rectangular glasses. “There’s glass outside the window as well.”

“Dr. Spencer Reid,” he held out his hand.