I frown at his question. "What evidence do you see that would indicate that he is the murder?"

    "Especially since he's also dead?" Benen adds, crossing his arms.

    Fitz raises an eyebrow at the nonchalant Donovan. "What if that's what his murderer wants?" Fitz pauses, waiting for everybody to interpret that first question. After a few thoughtful seconds, he asks, "What if he was murdered, and the killer wanted to frame him?"

    At this, neither Donovan nor Audrey have a response to that question. The same thing for the Altruistics.

Something clicks and I ask, "What if he killed himself after he killed her? This could be a case of murder-suicide."

Fitz shrugs at my theory. "That may be true, or my theory may be true." He turns to the man. "Do you have a picture of David's death?"

The officer nods.

And then, horrifying picture of a dead David is
projected.

Laurel screams and Benen attempts to calm her down. Audrey and Donovan just turn away from it completely. Fitz and I force ourselves to look at the picture. I swallow the slowly rising bile in my throat.

The corpse of David laid crumpled against an alley wall, blood completely soaking his clothes. I can barely make out a stab wound in his lower abdomen. I glance up at his face to see his nose is broken, a thin line of dried blood evident. His right hand's bloody from most likely an attempt to stop the bleeding wound, and a bloody handprint is faintly visible among the blood-soaked fabric.

I don't even realize that I'm shuddering faintly until Fitz steadies me. Forcing myself to look away from the photo, I ask, "Could you zoom in on his face?" I notice the desperation laced in my voice as I stare at the officer, waiting for him to do so.

The officer does so, and I shake my head, regaining my composure as Fitz releases his hold on me. I glance up at the zoomed in photo and say, "It's safe to look now." When everyone does, I notice how pale everyone's faces are, especially Laurel's.

My voice failing me from saying anything else, Fitz quickly announces, "Does everybody notice how his nose is broken?" When we all nod, he adds, "Did you also notice the faint boot imprint on his face? The one that stretches horizontally across his face?"

"Does that mean that someone kicked him in the face?" Laurel asks, her color returning to her face along with everyone else's. "And that the kick broke his nose?" she adds. I nod, and we exchange gentle smiles at each other.

Fitz turns to the two Sovereigns. "That rules out your theory of murder," he says, gesturing to Donovan and Audrey. "It seems very unlikely that someone can kick himself in the face at that angle and break his nose." When they reluctantly nod, Fitz voices, "The stab wound wouldn't have helped, but the broken nose states that this was indeed a second murder."

At this, everyone nods. Donovan turns to the officer. "What's the time?" he asks, yawning shortly after. Audrey, Laurel, and Benen do the same while Fitz and I suppress ours.

The officer checks his watch, his eyes widening. "It's almost 11," he says. The officer then quickly adds, "Go get a good rest, everybody. We'll be continuing this over breakfast, so come to this room again." And when he stares at Fitz and me, he mouths, "You two will need it."

    I open my mouth to ask about that last statement as Fitz and I grab the two files. When we do, the man quickly ushers everyone out, locking the conference room doors behind us. I frown at everybody. "What level are your rooms at?"

    Laurel says, "Benen and I have connected suites on level 7."

    "Audrey and I have suites on level 6," Donovan adds.

    Fitz nods. "Since we were the last to arrive, ours must be on level 8." He runs a hand through his hair. "We should probably go get some sleep, to be honest." He waves to everybody. "I'll see you all tomorrow."

...

          She stands alone in the darkness. It envelops around her. The girl searches for something- anything- that can be made out in the black. Yet she finds nothing.

          The voice in her head tells her to move forward. Before she can think anything through, she finds her legs propelling her forward. She didn't feel like she was walking, but she knew that she was walking.

          By now, she realizes she's walking to another place, other than the place where she was first standing. The girl glances around every few seconds, but she can only see black. She frowns- how would she know where she's going if she can only see black?

          The girl suddenly hits something head-on. Her head pounds as she rubs the appearing bruise. Remembering where she is, she glances up to see a wall made of grey bricks. She frowns at this wall and attempts to swerve left or right. Hopelessness takes over when she notices just how far the wall stretches in width.

          The girl stares at the wall to see three separate bricks glow in three colors: a dark green brick to the left, a white brick to the right, and a teal brick in the middle. In the back of her mind, she knows that she needs to touch one of the colored bricks. She just doesn't know which.

           "Left is always best," the girl begins, reaching for the dark green brick. She then stop and stares at the teal brick. "Unless there's a middle..."

            With her mind made up, the girl then reaches out to touch the teal brick. She presses her palm against the cool surface.

            Warmth spreads throughout her body. It spreads too quickly, though. One minute, it's a gentle warmth. Another minute, it's a boiling sauna.

            Then she realizes that she's been ripped away from her subconsciousness.

...

            I open my eyes quickly and realize that my fingers are entwined with someone else's hand. My eyes adjust to the darkness and I see a male silhouette standing in front of me. I soon realize that the silhouette belongs to Fitz, and the hand I'm holding is his hand. I notice how soft his hand is, and I feel my face warming. And suddenly, I'm glad it's dark.

            "...Sophie?" Fitz asks sleepily, his free hand rubbing his teal eyes. My flush deepens when he squeezes my hand, most likely realizing that we're holding hands. I can only imagine his expression right now, especially with his widened eyes.

    "I- my apologies!" I stutter, my face warming more. Not realizing that our hands were still entwined, I stumble backwards, hoping to disappear with the darkness.

    Even though I'm a blushing mess in the dark, my mind decides to trip me. I'm already falling when I realize that I'm still holding onto Fitz and technically bringing him down with me.

    That is, until I suddenly stop falling.

    An imbecile can figure out that Fitz caught me, and I curse myself for my clumsiness. I realize how close we truly are since I'm able to see Fitz' face within the blackness. And before I know it, I'm blushing like crazy again. Who knew that teal eyes would be so captivating... Replaying what I just thought, I shake my head, wondering what's getting into me.

    Fitz stands up straight, steadying me as well. "I- I should probably be in my room," he stammers, releasing me. I notice the confusion in his voice, and I don't blame him. His quiet footsteps echo faintly as he retreats to his bed in his room.

    In what I hope was a sleep-deprived daze, I make my way over to my own bed. I lie down, eyes wide. I pull the covers up to my head, yet stare up at the ceiling, my mind awake. And before I know it, I'm thinking about all the events leading up to now.

    Michelle' death.

    The officer. At this, I cringe at the memory of the painful circlet that he put on my head. I frown when I remember that it suddenly disappeared. It couldn't have disappeared that quickly, I think to myself, sighing.

    The strong-willed Sovereigns and the compassionate Altruistics.

    And the intelligent Percipients.

    Percipients...

    A soft smile on my face, I roll to the side and close my eyes. I then let the gentle warmth take me away from my surroundings.