Some believed that strength was something you were born with. One was either born strong-willed or weak-minded. Some walked the earth like an exposed nerve, letting words pierce their skin and eat away their soul. But not her, black and white thinking was never her forte, she always thought in grey. She believed that staying in the grey or silver lining was the best option to see everything clearly. Nothing would be hidden because one wouldn't be prejudiced if they allowed themselves to see beyond the good and evil.

Taking sides was a waste of energy. Running the mile in haste as everyone does was something she found no amusement in. Why outrun everyone else, when one could simply stay on the sidelines, lay in wait, and join the track when each player bore their cards and had exhausted themselves beyond repair? Life was never fair, so why play fair?

The officer who shoved her inside a cell smiled wickedly before he closed the door in a daunting manner. If she was weak, she would have stumbled on the floor and cried. Or perhaps, had run towards the door, gripped the bars, and begged to be set free. Maybe those were what the officer expected to have seen from her, that's why he closed the door a few seconds less than the time needed to shut it, awaiting a response from her. He was mistaken. Alyssa answered that taunt with a smile and a bow.

"You wouldn't be so smug once you've tasted what actual prison looks like, missy," the officer said to her as sported a grin. Clicking his tongue, he turned on his heel and walked away. Alyssa chuckled, he may have acted like her reaction hit nothing, but she knew better. Officer Ferguson was as sensitive as an onion. He may have layers, but they were easily dismantled by simply trampling on his pride. A kind of pride that in truth had no real impact on his everyday life. It gave him nothing and would garner him nothing.

Alyssa scanned the inside of the cell. There was a single bed on the left and a disgusting-looking toilet on the right; one that didn't even have barricades to prevent onlookers from witnessing how someone would shit. The room also had a distinct smell, one that reinforced the image of the room; repugnant. With a sigh, she took a step toward the bed, but before she could even sit on it, a clearing of someone's throat had her looking back at the cell door. There, detective Howe stood. The expression on his face danced between confident and confused at the same time. A truly remarkable sight.

"That was my superior on the phone."

Alyssa raised an eyebrow. Minutes ago, while she and the detective were inside the car-him interrogating her about how she found out he had called for reporters-his phone rang, and that caused him to exit the vehicle, leaving Alyssa in the hand of officer Ferguson who was at that time had just fallen to a step beside the car door.

"And what did he say, detective?"

She watched, amazed at how his indecision appeared clear in his eyes. He seemed to be weighing whether to tell her the truth or not. But after a few seconds, he took a deep breath and answered, "They pressured the mayor and judge to re-open the investigation. Your trial is suspended but you're to stay in this cell while I, and someone from my department resumes the investigation of your case.

"Better do it right then," Alyssa mumbled. She purposely said those in a mocking tone hoping to elicit some form of anger from the detective. And by how the man frowned and stepped close to the bars of the cell, she knew she got what she wanted.

"This would've been easy if you have given a proper explanation, Alyssa. Was it so hard to have told me the truth?"

"And what truth would that be, detective? There are variations of truth in this case. But the truth you seek, you must figure out on your own."

The bars on her cell slightly rattled when the detective grabbed it and shook the frail metal. His eyes were that of a killer. The obviousness of his frustration was something that momentarily stunned Alyssa. But then again, wasn't that what she wanted? She needed to prey on his ego and force him to truly look at the case. In her eyes, detective Howe had been prancing. From the day he came to Tarika four years ago, up until the day he returned a few days back, the detective had regarded her case as if it was a walk in the Park.

"I'm here to help you, Alyssa. Just tell me everything. Begin from that day in the woods. Tell me what happened. I'm certain you saw something four years ago. I'm not stupid to believe that a child could have committed a crime as vast as that."

He wasn't stupid like the rest, Alyssa thought to herself. But that's why she made sure the mayor-though unknowing-called for his help once more. The mayor was a toots. He easily believed it when Alyssa mentioned that their town would be under a microscope if the big city detective returned to investigate the case once more. She pretended that she feared being televised or having their town littered with people from all over the country.

She wasn't truly scared though. She only said that because she knew, anything that had the word, people coming to their small town, was heard by the mayor, he would jump on the opportunity. The man wanted exposure and to have their small pathetic town talked about, despite it not having anything worthy of attention.

She expected a few broadcasters and reporters to arrive along with detective Howe, but he disappointed her when he arrived alone. That disappointment even deepened when out of nowhere, the mayor decided to keep the whole thing hushed. She couldn't figure out why the boastful leader of their town had a sudden change of heart.

"You know Alyssa, there is a limit to one's patience and..."

"You're right, detective," Alyssa butted in, cutting him off mid-sentence. "That's why you should start working on the case properly."

"I have, but you..."

"But me what, detective? Is your ability to solve a crime dependent on someone's statement other than actual movement and investigation?"

"You know nothing of what I have gone through because of this...'

She cut him off again, but on that second interruption, she found the bars on her door rattling louder.

Alyssa chuckled. "You need to manage your emotions, detective. You seem to be too lost and full of anger. Is that why you've been walking the streets of this town with a blindfold?"

Teeth gritting and eyes full of anger, he replied, "What do you mean? I have done my job properly. I could have left, Alyssa, but I remained here because I'm doing my work correctly. I know there's more to this case, that's why I need your help. Your statement would greatly clear a few holes... No, a gaping and huge hole, in this case."

"Well, that's a relief. I thought you have receded into a corner and decided to leave things as they were."

Detective Howe chuckled before he replied, "Don't play me, Alyssa. You knew why I haven't left. That's why you asked me that question inside the car. But what I don't get is why you keep on acting as though keeping things to yourself-things that can greatly help your cause-within yourself."

She turned her back on detective Howe, took a seat on the bed, and then, looked him in the eye. "Had it ever occurred to you that I don't talk about it because I can't?"

"That's preposterous, Alyssa. If you're suggesting that someone or something is keeping you from talking, then I'm Santa Clause."

"Then perhaps, you could give me an early Christmas present."

Detective Howe slammed his palm on one of her cell bars and then yelled, "Fine. If you want to keep your mouth shut, then keep it that way." He then turned to the left and motioned to walk away. But before he could land another step forward, Alyssa shouted, "Start with the obvious, detective. Why don't you visit the morgue?"

Swinging his head to look at her, he replied, "Had you really thought that I'm incompetent and unable to discern the course of an investigation? I have gone to the morgue and interviewed them, all of them. I even went as far as spending a few bucks for a beer while asking Dr. Shiam about the remains. I have..."

"Then you weren't asking the right questions."

"Then perhaps you can tell me what to ask. Go ahead, young lady. You seem to know better. Tell me, what questions should I have asked, huh?"

Silence. She answered him with nothing but a stare and that had the detective chuckling.

"You have a punitive mindset, Alyssa. And obvious predominant self-centeredness in you. It would get you in trouble. Is it so hard to give? All I ask is for you to tell me the truth, yet here you are, stubbornly refusing.
Tell me, what is it that you need, fulfilled, before opening that mouth of yours? I'm certain there's something you want."

"I told you, detective. Perhaps I don't talk about it because I can't."

"And I answered you, I don't believe it one bit! But here is what I'm certain of, Alyssa Miller if you don't start talking you will lose this case and spend the rest of your life in jail!"

Raising an eyebrow, she replied, "Well, this is disheartening. I gave you a thought but you haven't pondered on it deeper than I expected."

"That's because there's nothing to think about!"

Sauntering towards her cell door, she grabbed the bar that the detective was gripping and then shouted, "Reality can shift and be molded just by the thoughts we have, detective. All I wanted was an assurance that you're not caught up in the haze that encompassed this town."

She tilted her head to the side and then continued, "What this town has is an epidemic of the mind. Infection is inevitable if one has a weak grasp of their thoughts and their reality. Now I can see that you've been caught."

"What the hell are you talking about," he muttered.

Alyssa released her hold on the bars, took a step back, eyed detective Howe curiously, and then said, "One stupid mind thought that I'm guilty and that was enough to evoke the others to follow that train of thought. If something inside you has already decided that I'm guilty then it doesn't matter what evidence is laid in front of you. You would always see me as guilty."

Detective Howe fell silent. He released the cell bars and moved a step back then murmured, "Fine."

"Fine? Forced to agree with me?"

"Enough, Alyssa. I've had enough of you. Better start talking or I would tuck tail out of this town faster than you can say help!"

"I can't speak because I can't." She slowly walked over to the bed inside her cell, sat on it, and sighed.

Detective Howe frowned and regarded her countenance with piercing eyes. "Have you seen things, Alyssa? Perhaps you have. Why you don't speak of it is beyond me. But I will figure out the truth."

Her lips parted in a smile. "Thank you, detective."

Before he left her, he gave her a look that Alyssa failed to discern. But their conversation was enough for her; enough for that day. She was confident that she could end the charade, but something she noticed while inside the police car earlier had her thoughts careening in various directions. Mr. Simba was back-the father of one of the victims and a foe that even she, would have a difficult time facing.

Alyssa lay down on the bed, the spring creaking as it received her weight. Shifting her body to the side, she angled her hand to finger her upper vertebrae. The puncture wound she received four years ago still stung whenever her emotions ran high. She could only wish that things doesn't get out of hand or go haywire beyond repair. She had gone to great lengths just to have those corpses moved from their original spot and unearthed, but damn their stupid heads! None had seen what she wanted to be known. It was perhaps stupid to have placed her bet on a drunk doctor and war-traumatized soldier, but the alternative was catastrophic. They should thank God she was different. Her mind was too much of a labyrinth that...

The jiggling of keys disrupted her thoughts. She glanced towards the door and there, her brother stood.

"I will get you out of here, Alyssa."

Her eyes turned wide as saucers. Damn, she thought, as her brother slowly slid the keys to the keyhole.