You knew you were ‘different’. You had always been ‘different’. But you were also someone who could help the FBI. Which is why you had been brought in.

A man walked in, black and tall, with a shaved head and a case file in his hands. He knew you were different as well.

“I need your help. There’s been a murder. Two teen girls, a father and a mother. A family. Do you know anything?” The man asked you, speaking softly as he crouched in front of you.