Walking into this room felt different. Of course, I have always walked in here every day. However, today was different.

"Levi?"

Looking up and down, everything seems weird. My brother is hanging from the ceiling with a noose attached to his neck. My brother, a person who actually enjoyed living life, seemed to have killed himself. Everything in this room looked as if it were a suicide. The chair looked as if he had kicked it behind him to have himself hang. He was nowhere near the table to have any hindrances. This was all too real.

But, I knew something. I knew that my brother wouldn't have killed himself. He was trying his hardest to provide for me. He would never kill himself.

"That's why I am meeting with you here today, Mr. Bianchi," I explained.

"So, you want to find out who killed your brother? That's why you came here today?" Mr. Bianchi lifted his eyes from the pencil he was sharpening.

"Yes. I'm sure it was a murder." I answered. I was one hundred percent sure.

"Was there anything off about the room or your brother when you walked in?"

"Nothing out of the ordinary. It did look like a suicide scene." I answered, but then suddenly remembered something. "Wait. He did have something off about his left wrist."

"And what was that?" He moved in closer, anticipating my answer.

"He happened to have a clover. However, it wasn't a four-leaf, it was a three. Very odd. Usually on television shows people who get tattoos have a four-leaf clover. I don't understand why he didn't." I answered truthfully.

"A three-leaf clover you say? Hmm. Very interesting." Mr. Binachi then glanced over at me, "Do you happen to recall if he was part of any gangs?"

"Gangs?"

"Yes. Gangs. Do you know?"

I then tried to remember. "No. He didn't mention anything about a gang. Was my brother part of a gang?"

"Well, from how you described your brother's tattoo, it seems he may be part of the Violet Clove."

"The Violet Clove? I heard about them. Aren't they the money and drug dealers? Why would my brother have anything to do with them?"

Mr. Bianchi then looked me from head to toe. "That hat and dress you're wearing. How much would you say it costs?"

I was stunned by his question. It was out of the ordinary. "I wouldn't be too sure. My brother bought it for me, but he told me not to worry about the price. Why do you ask?"

Mr. Bianchi then took a cigarette from his drawer and lit it. "That dress is not cheap, let me tell you that. I would say around a couple hundred thousand."

"What?" I was shocked. I then looked down at the black and white checkered dress. This cost that much? Why would my brother buy this?

"To me, it seems as if your brother cares dearly about you to have dealt with those types of people." Mr. Bianchi took a breath of his cigarette then blew out. "To me, it also looks like your brother may have been 'suicided.'"

"'su-suicided?' What do you mean?"

"I think that your brother has been killed by the Violet Clove gang, and I'm going to figure that out." Mr. Bianchi then grabbed his coat from his coat hanger and put it on. "Let's go, Lekkey."

A boy then came out of the room next to Mr. Bianchi's desk. "Yes, sir."

"Wait!" I exclaimed. "What about me?"

"You can stay here. Dealing with these types of people will be dirty. You should stay here while Lekkey and I do the investigation."

I didn't want to stay here. I wanted to figure out who killed my brother. If it's the last thing I do, I won't just sit down. "No! I'm going with you! I don't care if I am in danger. I have to figure out..." I began to cry mid-sentence. I wanted my revenge. "I need to know."

"Please, sir." Lekkey looked at Mr. Bianchi pitifully. "Let her come with us. I can see why she wants to know who killed her brother."

Mr. Bianchi then glanced at me and sighed. "Fine. But I warned you. If you cry because you got into a situation, it's not my fault."

He actually agreed. I didn't think he would. "Thank you so much, mister!" I yelled with thankfulness.

"Yeah, sure. However, you can't come in that dress. You'll need a pair of trousers and a jacket. Maybe a different hat while you're at it." Mr. Bianchi shook his head.

"Ah, of course. I'll search for some. When should we start investigating?"

"We'll start later tonight. For now, get changed. We can meet back here, Ms. Berger." Mr. Bianchi took the cigarette out of his mouth and put it into the ashtray.

"Thank you so much. I appreciate it, Mr. Bianchi and Mr. Lekkey."

"No problem, miss." Lekkey gave a promising smile.

"I shall be leaving now." I curtsied then left the office. All that has happened was strange. Will I be able to find my brother's murderer?