The cold night wind blew from the window, rustling papers with countless lines of details of the murder. Another case forced me to work long nights.

Joseph tilted his head, looking through the lenses of his glasses at the evidence, trying to think. His leather-gloved fingers were sorting through documents when suddenly there was a knock on the office door.

Looking up, Joseph saw you standing in the doorway, your raincoat wet from the rain, and your hair a little disheveled.