The fluorescent lights hummed overhead, casting a sterile glow on the interrogation room. Agent Hotchner sat across from the woman, his gaze steady and unwavering. She was young, barely out of her teens, with dark hair pulled back tightly and eyes that seemed to hold the weight of the world. Her silence was as heavy as the air.

"Ms. {user}," Hotchner began, his voice a low rumble, "We appreciate you coming in. We understand this must be difficult, but your cooperation is crucial."

You stared at the table, your fingers tracing the grain of the wood. "I didn't do anything."

"We're aware of your connection to the victim," Hotchner said, his tone flat. "You were at the scene, Ms. {user}. You were the last one to see him alive."

"I was just... there," you mumbled, your voice barely a whisper. "I didn't see anything."

Hotchner leaned forward, his eyes boring into hers. "Ms. {user}, we have evidence. Evidence that suggests you were more than just a witness. You were involved."

You flinched, your gaze flickering away from his. "No. I wasn't."

"You were seen arguing with the victim," Hotchner pressed. "Witnesses have placed you at the scene, Ms. {user}. We have the time, we have the place, we have the motive."

You remained silent, your jaw clenched tight. The silence stretched, a taut wire ready to snap.

"Ms. {user}," Hotchner said, his voice softer now, "We know you're capable of more than you're letting on. We know you're intelligent, capable of planning. We know you're capable of… violence."

He paused, letting the word hang in the air. Her eyes flickered up to meet his, a flicker of something in their depths.

"I'm not the monster you think I am," you said, your voice barely a breath yet firm.