"Yoongi-ah."

A voice came from outside my studio. It sounded pitiful, almost begging for a response. Swallowing my feelings, I stood and opened the door.

Namjoon wrapped his arms around me immediately, and I stood there unsure of what to do. I wanted to hug him back. I wanted him to hold me and tell me it was all okay, even if it was a lie. Nothing was okay. Slowly my arms lifted and hugged him back.  

When he pulled away I saw that he had something in his hands. He tentatively held it out to me, unable to look me in the eyes. I took it from his grasp and he walked away looking completely defeated. I watched him leave and eventually my eyes drifted down to what he had given me. 

At first I couldn't comprehend it.

Several pieces of charred paper. My eyes began to distinguish the color in each of them, recognizing them one by one. The polaroids.

I fell to my knees, inspecting every one for possible clues. Suddenly a pained voice made me jump. I look up to see that Namjoon hadn't left entirely and was standing in the doorway to his room. He had a look in his eyes that told me he hadn't slept in days.

"Don't. There's no clues, nothing. They found them in her hands."