The seatbelt digs into my shoulder as we drive towards the station. If you've never been in a police car, it's not as exciting as the movies make it look. It's pretty terrifying actually. The officer keeps looking at me in the rearview mirror as if I'm going to try and stab him or something. I don't know how he thinks that's possible when my hands are still handcuffed infront of me. They're still cutting into my wrists.

The officer doesn't say a word as we arrive at the station and he opens the door for me. I don't thank him. When I get out I'm shocked to see Chris' 4 x 4 there waiting. I guess I have to have someone here to be a parent or carer or whatever, but Chris has never been good enough to deserve either of those labels.

Chris stares at me as the officer leads the way to the door. I think for a moment that Chris is about to realise that I'm not Connor but he doesn't. At least if he does he keeps it quiet.

The officer at the front desk looks at Chris and then at me. The officer who brought me here goes off down a hallway, to find an interview room I guess.

"Name?" The officer at the desk asks.

"Connor Prince" I reply and Chris doesn't correct me.

"Chris Raklowski" Chris says.

"And your relationship is?"

"I'm his foster dad," Chris replies "unfortunately" he adds, gazing at me. God he looks angry. If looks could kill I'd be dead. To be honest I'm not sure if that would be better. I'm starting to think this wasn't such a great idea.

The other officer comes back. "Follow me" he says, and we do.

The room is much smaller than I thought. I've seen Criminal Minds but the interrogation room is nothing like they portray on the show. The room's about 6 feet wide with one table and four chairs. The walls are bare but the paint is peeling off them. It kinda reminds me of home.

I sit in the chair nearest the door. Chris reluctantly sits beside me. The officer doesn't sit yet.

"I just need to get another officer to sit in on this interrogation with us. As well as a recording device." He says. Chris grunts and I say nothing. 

When the officer is gone Chris speaks to me for the first time since we got here.

"So where've you been for the last 3 weeks?"

Shit. He really can't tell the difference. He actually thinks I'm Connor. Considering he's lived with us for nearly 3 years, it's kinda disturbing.

"Nowhere in particular" I reply.

He's annoyed. I can see in his expression. We sit in silence for about a minute before he bangs loudly on the table, making me jump. He stands up and gazes down at me.

"FUCK CONNOR," he says "WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK HAVE YOU DONE? I PROBABLY WON'T BE ABLE TO FOSTER AGAIN BECAUSE OF YOU!"

I think about what Connor would have said in this situation. I stand up too "WELL YOU'LL FIND OUT SOON ENOUGH," I shout back "AND IT'S A GOOD THING YOU WON'T BE ABLE TO FOSTER AGAIN. ANY KID DESERVES A BETTER DAD THAN YOU!"

"WELL MAYBE IF YOU WEREN'T SUCH A BRAT I COULD BE A BETTER DAD!"

"I RAN AWAY FROM HOME BECAUSE OF YOU!"

"OH YEAH!" Chris shouts before lowering his voice "well I forgot my phone so I went back home to get it and I discovered that Roman's gone as well. Did you ask him to do that?"

Chris sits back in his seat. I do the same before answering "yeah, I did." 

The officer returns. Now accompanied by a female officer. He places a black box on the table which I guess is the recording device. The female officer has a notebook as well as a couple of forms. 

"Let's begin shall we" the male officer says, sitting down opposite me. The female officer sits opposite Chris.

The male officer presses a button on the black box and begins speaking "interview with Connor Prince, prime suspect in the murder of 16 year old Kailin Jenkins. Present are Connor, his foster dad Chris, officer Jacob Harris and officer Valerie Maria. Date is the 21st of November and the time is 8:45am. Connor, you are 17. You live with Mr Raklowski and your twin brother Roman, you are both being fostered by him. For how many years have you been living with Mr Raklowski?"

"3" I reply bluntly.

"Ok, and you are aware I suppose that Miss Kailin Jenkins dated your brother for over a year, according to the diary we retrieved from Miss Jenkins house, she only broke up with your brother 3 months ago. Do you know why that is?"

"No, I don't know" I answer, and I'm being honest I don't. Kailin dumped me for no reason. I'm not sure if Connor knew the reason though.

"And is this your jacket?" Officer Harris asks, holding up Connor's hoodie "holding up evidence number 3085." 

"Yes" I reply.

"Upon a routine house search which is being conducted at the moment we have found something rather interesting," officer Harris explains.

I'm not sure what they would have found apart from an empty room and loads of empty beer cans.

Officer Harris continues "do you really have no clue what we might have found Connor?"

"No," I say, still trying to act like my brother "why don't you enlighten me? What did you find?"

"The officers who completed the search found a box with hundreds of bags filled with an assortment of tablets and powders in them. As well as a burner phone. I assume you know that it doesn't take a genius to work out what's been going on here?" 

Fuck. This. Is. Bad. Why Connor? You've been dealing drugs? This is not going to go well. I need to confess that I'm not Connor. This is going too far. 

"What the actual fuck Connor?" Chris says, before he looks at the officers "what exactly will happen to him now then?"

"He'll have to go to a court for young offenders and depending on the judges ruling he'll either end up going to prison as soon as he turns 18 or he'll be sent to a detention center."

I don't know how to answer their questions. I don't know how to feel about any of this. Officer Maria pulls out one of the forms she brought in. She stands up and leans across the table to point at the form with her pen. 

"I'm showing Connor the non disclosure agreement," she says before talking to me "Connor this is just a form to say that you won't agree to any interviews with the press or disclose anything about the case. You just need to sign your name here." She points to a dotted line at the bottom of the form. 

There's a problem here. I'm right handed. Connor is left handed. This is something that I'm not sure if the police or Chris know. If I sign it with my right hand I could give away that I'm not Connor. This means there's only one option left.

"I'm not signing it" I say abruptly.

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU'RE NOT SIGNING IT?" Chris shouts.

Officer Maria is much more calm over this "that's fine Connor. We can't force you to sign, but perhaps you'd like to tell us why you won't sign it?"

"Because I'm not Connor Prince," I reply, ignoring the confused looks on their faces "I'm Roman Prince."