Esmé stood with her arms crossed, her eyes fixed on the policewoman with an uninterested gaze.
"Are you really blaming me, right now?" she said, her voice carrying a hint of irritation and disinterest.
She shook her head, an exasperated sigh escaping her lips. The policewoman's face flushed with anger, her jaw tightening as she tried to maintain her composure.
"You..." she began, her voice trembling with irritation.
Before she could say more, the senior officer cut her off with a sharp command. "Enough!"
She took deliberate steps forward, each one measured and calm, her gaze fixed on Esme. The gravity of the situation was evident in her eyes, which were hardened with resolve.
Her voice, when she spoke, was firm and respectful, "Miss Valh... Miss Esme, I don't know what transpired here, but if my subordinate made any mistake, I apologize on her behalf. I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive her."
Her tone carried a blend of politeness and undeniable seriousness, leaving no room for misinterpretation.
The policewoman, standing slightly behind her leader, felt a wave of frustration and confusion.
Her eyebrows knitted together as she took a step forward, her voice rising in urgency, "Senior, why are you apologizing to this wo—"
Before she could finish, her senior turned sharply, cutting her off with a cold, unwavering voice, "Shut up."
The words were like a whip crack in the tense air. She glared at her subordinate with eyes burning with anger, the intensity of her stare enough to silence any further protests.
The policewoman shrank back, her face flushing with embarrassment and a hint of fear.
Hearing their words, a wry smile slowly crept across Esme's face. Her eyes flickered with a hint of amusement as she tilted her head slightly, the calm exterior belying the storm of thoughts raging within.
"It's okay. I just want to know on what charges I am being arrested," she said, her voice steady and controlled, the seriousness of the situation not lost on her.
The senior woman met Esme's gaze, her expression equally serious as she replied, "It's murder."
The word hung heavily in the air. As soon as Esme heard the charge, her eyes widened in genuine surprise.
For a brief moment, her carefully maintained mask slipped, revealing her shock. She quickly regained her composure, her face returning to its usual impassive state.
Internally, disbelief coursed through her. Murder? They must really want me to spend the rest of my life in prison.
Taking a deep breath, Esme asked in a calm yet curious tone, "And who am I supposed to have murdered?"
Her unwavering calmness caught even the senior woman off guard. She blinked, momentarily thrown by Esme's poised demeanor.
After a brief hesitation, she replied, her tone betraying her own uncertainty, "It's Director William, who works in your office."
The name struck Esme like a physical blow, her eyes widening once again. Her surprise was evident, and this time, it lingered.
She uncrossed her arms, letting them fall to her sides, and took a deliberate step closer to the senior woman.
Her expression hardened, shifting from shock to serious intent, as she locked eyes with her accuser.
She could feel the weight of the situation bearing down on her, but she refused to show any sign of weakness.
With a deep breath, she spoke, her voice low and measured, "Director William? You believe I killed Director William?" The disbelief and gravity of the accusation simmered beneath her calm exterior.
"Yes, we found the knife used to kill Director William, and it has your fingerprints on it," the senior woman said, her voice attempting to remain calm.
She glanced at Esme, feeling an inexplicable unease. It was as if she was a pawn in a chess game, and Esme was the unseen player moving the pieces.
Esme's eyes widened slightly in genuine surprise, but her expression quickly shifted to one of irritation. She raised an eyebrow and scoffed, her voice dripping with sarcasm.
"So, based solely on your assumptions, you arrest me? Wow, that's such a proud moment for law enforcement."
She lifted her hands, the metal of the handcuffs glinting under the harsh fluorescent lights. With deliberate movements, she began to clap slowly, the sound echoing in the small interrogation room.
"Clap, clap," she said, each word punctuated by a clap, her tone mocking.
The senior woman felt her composure slipping, a flicker of doubt crossing her face.
"This isn't an assumption, Miss Esme. Your fingerprints were on the knife, and you were found lying beside his body," she insisted, though her voice wavered slightly.
Esme leaned forward, her eyes locking onto the senior woman's with a fierce intensity.
"You think fingerprints are enough to convict me? Have you considered how they got there? Or are you too eager to close this case and move on?"
The senior woman hesitated, feeling the weight of Esme's words. The room seemed to close in around her, the tension thickening the air.
Esme's unwavering gaze, her defiant posture, and the biting sarcasm in her tone all combined to create an overwhelming presence that was hard to ignore.
Esme leaned back, her expression softening slightly as a thought seemed to cross her mind.
"Do you really think I'm foolish enough to leave such obvious evidence if I were the killer? Or is it more likely that someone is setting me up, knowing exactly how it would look?"
The senior woman felt a chill run down her spine. Esme's words resonated with an uncomfortable truth, one that she hadn't fully considered.
But before she could respond, Esme's demeanor shifted again, her irritation replaced by a steely resolve.
"I did not kill Director William," Esme said, her voice calm and unwavering.
"And I will prove it. But until then, you might want to reconsider your so-called evidence and look for the real culprit. Because I guarantee you, the truth is far more complicated than you think."
The senior woman stared at her, the confidence and conviction in Esme's eyes making her feel a pang of guilt.
She herself had harbored suspicions about the case, but the relentless pressure from her superiors had forced them to hastily conclude it.
Taking a deep breath, the senior woman spoke in a forced tone, "It's also true that you had a fight with Mr. William right before he died, and no one else was present in your office except the two of you."
Esme's expression hardened, her eyes narrowing slightly.
"Yes, we had a disagreement, but that doesn't mean I killed him. Are we really going to base my guilt on circumstantial evidence and pressure from above?"
The senior woman shifted uncomfortably in her seat, the weight of Esme's accusation pressing down on her. "You have to understand," she said, her voice wavering slightly,
"Is flimsy at best," Esme interrupted, her tone sharp.
"Fingerprints can be planted, and just because we argued doesn't mean I had a motive to kill him. Have you even considered the possibility that someone else could have been involved?"
The senior woman felt her resolve weakening under Esme's piercing gaze. She glanced down at the folder in front of her, the documents suddenly feeling insubstantial.
"The knife... the fingerprints...," she began, but her voice trailed off, the certainty in her words dissipating.