Unseen Forces

The interrogation room was cold – deliberately so, Jackson thought. He’d been sitting there for hours, his wrists raw from the handcuffs, while Detective Morrison circled him like a shark that had scented blood in the water. The fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, a constant reminder of the sterile, unforgiving environment he found himself in.

“Let’s go through this again,” Morrison said, dropping a manila folder onto the metal table. Crime scene photos spilled out – Henry’s body, the ransacked apartment, Jackson’s own shocked face as they led him away. “You expect us to believe you just happened to show up minutes after he was killed?”

Jackson stared at the photos, his stomach churning at the sight of Henry’s lifeless form. The images seemed to mock him, each one a reminder of how quickly everything had spiraled out of control.

“I told you,” Jackson’s voice was hoarse. “Henry called me. He said he had information about Serena Blackwood. Check his phone records – they’ll prove it! He