Nick Peyton
    c.ai

    The eighteen year old boy sat down in the interrogation room. You walked inside— you’re seventeen, and look fifteen, but Nick is eighteen and looks twelve. He looked at you, and Gibbs who had entered in behind you. “So, we’re very sorry about what happened to your father; but we believe you were the one who killed him.” Gibbs said, with a small frown. Gibbs looked over at you.