My legs were shaking as I sat down onto the cold chair. I looked up to see a security camera watching me from the corner. Eliza and the other policeman took a seat across from me. The only thing I was slightly grateful for was that Pierce Prescott wasn't indolently standing beside them, but rather watching intently behind the one-way mirror.

I had watched enough crime dramas with my parents to know the good-cop bad-cop procedure, to always request a lawyer if they accused me of something--or to not request a lawyer as to not look guilty--and to answer everything truthfully. I had nothing to hide, so why couldn't my hands stop shaking?

"Avery," Eliza said. "How did you know Carson Harris?"

"I...I, um...," I stammered. "I...he was in my grade. He helped me up one time when I tripped. That's all."

"Did you know Carson's family?" she inquired.

"Um...I know that his dad runs a car dealership and his mom is a nurse," I answered softly. I only knew that because Dad bought a car from Mr. Harris and Mom worked at the hospital, too. I know more about his parents more than Carson. "And I don't think he has any siblings. Does he? I'm not sure." A little sister who won't bother him anymore. A big brother who won't be able to have drinks with him. A mom who won't smile with her son during graduation. A father who won't cry during his wedding.

"No, Carson didn't have any siblings," Eliza replied. So just mourning parents, I solemnly thought. "Why didn't you go to the funeral, Avery?"

"I...I thought only people who liked him should go."

"So you didn't like Carson?"

"No, I didn't mean that! I just...just like his close friends and family, y'know? Not some random girl who he saw in the hall." My fingers wouldn't cease their incessant twitching, so I folded them on my lap to attempt to sedate them. It failed. "I...I should really call my parents..."

"They've already been contacted," Eliza assured with a warm smile. She pulled out a file from a case she had carried in with her. I glanced over to see if it was Pierce Prescott's suitcase. I almost sighed in relief to see that it wasn't. He probably has that awful picture in there, I thought, trying to suppress the memory of the blood. "Avery, did you know about Carson's...reputation?"

I thought everybody knew about Carson's reputation, I answered in thought. "Y-yes," I timidly answered.

She retrieved a paper from the file and turned it towards me. I was a picture depicting a car crash. "You know about this?"

"I...I think the whole town knew about it when it happened..."

About last year, a while after Carson got his license, he--

"He got into the crash. Do you know the whole story?" Eliza softly inquired.

"I...I know that...well, I heard that the other drivers...the other drivers were drunk...or he was drunk...and...the other drivers died."

Eliza nodded. "Okay. Thank you very much, Avery." The cops looked like they were anxious to leave.

"Why...why did Carson...write my name?" I asked. There were rumors that Carson killed himself. Or that he had a heart attack. Or that he got hit by a car. Or that something hit him in the head. Nobody really knew what happened to Carson Harris--nobody really knew Carson Harris at all after the accident.

"Avery, you just need to answer one more question, okay?" Eliza asked softly, completely ignoring my inquiry. I nodded, my hands still shaking as no amount of my composure had been regained. "Do you know anyone that would want to hurt Carson? Anyone that didn't like him? Anyone that had a grudge against him?"

"No...no, I told you. I barely knew Carson. I don't know who his friends are or who his enemies are or who else doesn't know him," I rapidly answered. I paused and echoed quietly, "I barely knew Carson."

"Okay, thank you very much, Avery," Eliza said with her signature warm smile. I hated that smile in that instant. It was a smile to distract you from answers and comfort you with one big lie: nothing was wrong, so smile.

"Why do you need to know who his enemies are?" I demanded, my voice steadily rising. My hands stopped shaking as I rested them on the table. "Why do you need to know about people who would want to hurt Carson?"

I already knew the answer. I didn't want to hear it.

"Avery...Carson Harris...he was murdered...October fifteenth, at eight pm exactly...Carson Harris's body was found. With a gunshot to his stomach."

My body shook. I didn't know what would be worse: hearing Carson killed himself or that Carson was murdered. I went with the latter. At least if Carson killed himself, he would've gone out the way he would've wanted to. I wanted to cry at the horrible thought I had just formulated. What would be better: suicide or murder? Wanting to go out due to your own misery or because someone else's negative emotions harbored against you?

"Why...why are you telling me these horrible things?"

"Pierce...he showed you the picture. He showed you what Carson wrote. We need to know how you're involved when this boy didn't even know you." I could see in her eyes that Eliza didn't believe a single word that I had told her. That I was a damn liar; she probably figured every kid of this generation was a damn liar. Nothing I said could be true because of what Carson wrote.

"I want to go home now," I uttered.

"What?" Eliza asked.

"I want to go home now," I repeated, standing from the chair and making my way towards the door.

"Avery, we won't be able to solve this case if you don't cooperate," Eliza said.

"I just told you everything I know, which isn't a lot."

"Avery, sit back down," the policeman suddenly said. Those were the first few words that the man had spoken since he knocked at my door. He sounded exhausted and bored of the whole situation. Maybe he was just tired of seeing all of the death.

I nodded, my hands resuming their shaking. I sat down and played the card that I had seen all the guilty suspects on television play. "I-I want a lawyer," I stammered. I then pondered who the lawyer they would appoint to me would be. We had a lawyer to handle legal issues after Grandma died last year (I wasn't too scarred by it as I only met the woman once when I was eight), but couldn't manage to afford him after all the legal expenses were taken care of. My dad said he would look right away for a new lawyer immediately afterwards, but he just never got around to the task.

The policeman heaved. "God dammit," he uttered under his breath. Eliza rolled her eyes. I furrowed my eyebrows at her. What's she doing, rolling her eyes at me? And I thought she was nice...

After the door swung open, I realized that she wasn't rolling her eyes at me, but at the man walking into the room. "I'd like a moment alone with my client," Pierce Prescott requested. Eliza grumbled something quietly. The two cops walked away from the ever-smirking Pierce Prescott and closed the door behind him.

Pierce sauntered up to the table, lazily tossed his briefcase onto it--as well as resting his feet up on the table--and looked at me. "Pierce Prescott, public defender," he greeted, reaching out his hand. I refused to shake it. Pierce Prescott, sick son a bitch, I replied in my head, not being bold enough to say the words aloud.

"What's going on?" I asked, just like I did in the car.

Pierce leaned forward on his hands. "Well, Carson Harris got himself murdered. And they think you did it! " My eyes flew open, while Pierce only smirked. "They don't have ample enough evidence to convict you, of course. Just that little message Carson wrote. So, we'll work something out. You come to this address," he added, taking a card out from his pocket and sliding it across the table to me. I gingerly picked it up, as if I dropped the thing it would break. "Come tomorrow at...seven? Yeah, that's good. We'll discuss our game plan there." I inspected the card to see Pierce's name, number, address (46 Washington Way) and nothing more.

"What game plan?" I demanded.

"The one where you tell me what your real relationship with Carson was." I was about to protest when his eyes darted to the security camera. I shut my mouth. He's gonna teach my how to lie. "Alright, we're done here. See you tomorrow, Avery."

He exited the room before I could add anything else. I rushed out as well, jumping at the opportunity to avoid any further conversation with Eliza. I shoved Pierce's business card into my pocket and found my mom and dad pacing back and forth down the hall. I practically jumped into their arms.

"Baby, what's wrong?" Mom inquired. I explained everything--well, everything but that they thought I did it--en route to the car. As I collapsed in the backseat, I had only two thoughts that comforted me:

The sick son of bitch might be able to save me from getting arrested.

And telling everything to Dakota.