Henry rolled over on the couch almost falling onto the floor. He reached for the fan remote to try to turn it up but was dismayed to find out it was on the highest level. At this point, the only thing left for him to do was take his underpants off. He drank ice water every second, rubbed ice all over his body and opened the windows. Anything he could do to relieve himself from the heat, he did.

It had been a week since the incident. A week since they took his car as "evidence", a week since he lost his job and that bitch Ophelia wasn't answering his calls. He'd given up contacting her at this point. He'd made up his mind that he'd just have to put that weekend behind him. Besides it wasn't the first time he'd blacked out from a night out. Last weekend, had nothing on his college days. He and Mark would both be questioning each other about the night prior. It was a tradition. Usually, there would be some video of what they did but this time there was nothing. It wasn't the first time he'd gotten in trouble with the law for his drunken demeanour. But it was the first time there had been blood.

His head hurt for the millionth time, thinking about who or what he might have hit. He'd imagined it several times. The police would bust down his door when he was taking a shower and arrest him. He'd be walked to the police car with his balls hanging out as everyone cheered that justice had been served. He told himself he wouldn't resist. He'd just let it happen and go to jail, befriend the prison gang leader so no one would mess with him. And then after a few years maybe he could get off in a couple of years on parole.

Henry clicked the power button on the remote to turn on the TV. It turned on the news channel. A lady dressed in white was reporting on a series of missing persons over the last couple of days. Uninterested, Henry switched to the sports channel, then to a movie channel and then to a cartoon channel. He settled on watching a rerun of Tom and Jerry. Something mind-numbing. He chuckled at Tom being hit with a frying pan, though he could imagine how he felt.

He was interrupted by a knock on the door. The last time he opened it, there was trouble on the other side. He considered not opening it. Whoever it was, they weren't important. But maybe it was the pizza he had ordered. That he could tolerate, he wrapped a sheet around his head and shoulders like a little child and shuffled toward the door.

He swung it open without asking who it was, to reveal not the Domino's pizza guy. But someone he thought he'd never see again.

He dropped the sheet at the sudden sight of her. "Ophelia." Her mouth widened into a broad charming smile.

"At least you remember my name this time." She stepped past him, took off her blue cap and left it on the kitchen counter. She sauntered over to the settee, fluffed up a cushion and sat kicking her sneakers off.

"Make yourself at home why don't you." Henry closed the door and took a careful seat beside her a few feet away.

"You called me?" She asked coolly.

"Called you? called you?!" His blood was boiling. "I've been going out of my mind for the past week! and you just waltz in here like you owned the place. Like nothing happened! Meanwhile I've been going out of my freaking mind!" Henry flung the crumpled sheet across the room, knocking over the one good lamp he had in this dump.

Ophelia rolled her eyes. "Okay, what does that have to do with me?"

Henry raked his hand through his hair. "Okay for my sanity, you should leave." He grabbed her by the arm.

"Hey, stop! What's your problem?"

"My problem is I woke up to a hangover, police are investigating me for murder, and you were in my apartment naked the same day and I don't remember shit!"

He swung the door open and all but shoved her out.

"Hey give me my shoes back!" She banged on the door. He grabbed her tiny sneakers and cap and flung them through the window of his second-floor apartment.

"Go get them! They're in the car park."

She screamed and stomped away. Henry watched her from the window as she grabbed them like a kid having a tantrum. She looked up at him and shook her head. What was her deal? Then she hurriedly pulled the cap over her head and turned away when she saw someone approaching.

Henry narrowed his eyes at a man with a white cup that stopped and looked at her. Then the man took a sip of whatever he was drinking and looked up at him. He drained it before crumpling the cup and dumping it in a nearby garbage bin.

Henry recognized him when he looked up again. Detective Williams. Detective Williams nodded his head and walked like he was approaching the entrance to the building. This was it. They found the body. They knew it was him and now they were coming for him. At least he could pull on a shirt and a pair of shorts to preserve what little dignity he had left.

He half expected the detective to barge in with his arrest warrant but he knocked. It was so soft, he wouldn't have heard it if he wasn't expecting it. He cracked the door open. Detective Williams was standing there with his hands in his pocket, looking around like he had all the time in the world.

He creaked the door open. "Hello?"

Detective Williams smiled wildly like he was glad to see an old friend. "Hey long time no see Smikle."

Henry chuckled slightly, his demeanour was offputting.

"Well, are you going to let me in?"

"Oh." He opened the door wider. He strolled in and looked around like he was sightseeing. He picked up a few of his sea shells then a little wood pen holder and put them down.

"This place is a dump."

"Thanks I've been decorating it for months now."

Detective Williams sucked in the entire room's supply of air through his nose. "Got everything opened up I see." He pointed at the open living room windows.

"Well yeah, I've been feeling the heat a lot lately."

Detective Williams nodded his head in agreement. "Yea Summer has been real warm lately."

There was stiffness in the air as Henry waited for the real reason the detective was here. He didn't want to outright ask. Not like he wanted to go back to jail.

"Have you been feeling well lately?" He asked as he took a seat on the settee. A peculiar question to ask someone he's interrogated.

"Well, I mean yea under the circumstances." Henry fanned himself with his shirt.

"How's your memory doing? Remember anything?"

Henry shook his head. "Nothing."

Detective Williams narrowed his eyes at him. "Been to the hospital?"

Now Henry was confused. "No?"

Detective Williams leaned back on the settee and drummed his fingers on the back of it. "Have you thought about who could have been possibly hit or killed with your car?"

"Well, I was hoping it was just some animal or something."

"It was a person."

Fuck. He really was here to arrest me. He looked at the front door and then back at the detective who seemed a bit too relaxed. He could make it. He was a fit 25-year-old. He could easily outrun him. Assuming there wasn't an army of police waiting just outside. Could he fight them off?

"Makes no sense you run," Detective Williams answered his thoughts.

Henry's shoulders slumped, he'd try to get off with a plea deal if he got a good lawyer. He waited but Detective Williams just sat there.

"Well, aren't you going to arrest me?"

"Why would I?"

Henry was confused. "You just said I hit someone. A person with my car."

"Well ..." He pulled out an envelope and slapped on the wooden coffee table.

"What's that? My arrest warrant?"

Detective Williams shook his head. "DNA results."

"For what?"

"The blood on the car."

Henry took a few steps back. "So you know who it is."

He nodded slowly. "Aren't you curious?"

He'd find out in court."Just arrest me if that's what you're here for."

Detective Williams shook his head and opened the envelope. He pointed to a line on the paper. "What does this say?"

"Can't read it I'm near-sighted." The detective chuckled like his patience was wearing thin.

"I'm not here to arrest you Smickle."

"What do you mean?"

He got up abruptly and in a split second, the paper was in his face.

"The blood is yours."