The police officer gave me a curious look as I sat in a chair at the police station.
"You know, you're quite young to be getting involved in adult problems," the officer said. "Why did you change what was written on the case board?"
I responded, "Look, I didn't mean to intrude. But I noticed some mistakes in the scene. Things you missed that I've already figured out without even seeing the file."
The man sternly warned me, "Don't ever do that again. This is a serious case."
The policewoman quickly interjected, stopping my departure. She handed me the file and asked, "What did we miss?"
I looked at the case file and quickly pointed to a man named Lucas. I questioned, "Did you ever interrogate this man that you call the victim?"
The lady nodded in affirmation. "Yes, we did interview him, and we have the transcription of the conversation."
I then requested, "Can I please see those letters and Lucas' statement regarding when his wife was found dead?"
I carefully examined the letters and Lucas' statements on paper. After a moment, I sighed and stated confidently, "Alright, this is pretty straightforward. Lucas wasn't the victim, because those 'strange letters' his wife had been receiving in the past few days? He's the one who sent them."
I continued to scrutinize the documents, pointing out another peculiarity. "The blackmailing letters were sent by her own husband. However, I'm not just referring to his handwriting. Look at the letters - there are grammatical mistakes such as 'mothers' instead of 'mother's.' And now compare that with Lucas's statement, where he writes 'Lians' instead of 'Lian's.' It's a consistent pattern of wrong grammar."
I firmly asserted, "Absolutely. He was the one who killed his wife in the dead of night. The grammatical errors in both his letters and his statement make it clear that he's responsible for her death."
I smugly smirked, pleased with uncovering the truth. "Piece of cake," I declared. "Now if you don't mind, I have school to attend. You're welcome, by the way."
The lady quickly followed Mela out of the room and stopped her briefly. "What's up now?" I inquired.
The woman chuckled, introducing herself. "I'm Mrs. Grayson, nice to meet you, Mela. You really helped us a lot today."
Mrs. Grayson chuckled once more, amused by my bluntness. I retorted, "It was easy work. Even your detectives couldn't find some of the obvious clues."
—AT SCHOOL—
I had arrived late to school and was met with a furious Mrs. Simmons.
"Your grades and performance in activities are subpar, and to top it all off, you show up late?" the teacher exclaimed in frustration.
I meekly apologized, "I'm really sorry, ma'am. I had an important matter to attend to."
—AFTER CLASS—
Gabriel, with a sneer on his face, grumbled, "Stupid girl, it's called a supernova!"
I was not missing a beat, responded, "Alright, got it. So before it can become a quasar, it needs to undergo a particular process first, right?"
Gabriel raised an eyebrow, impressed by my quick understanding. "Exactly," he replied. "A supernova is the explosive death of a star, and before it transforms into a quasar, it goes through a significant process. You got it right. Kudos."
When Gabriel presented me with a quiz, I confidently answered all the questions. However, Gabriel was thoroughly unimpressed, let out a heavy sigh, and asked with a hint of frustration, "I thought you had already grasped the lesson? We went over it in depth! What's going on inside your head right now?"
I was caught off guard by the unexpected question, responded with the first thing that came to my mind.
I let out a sheepish chuckle and replied, "Cheeseburger...?"
Irritation flickered across Gabriel's face, and he shot a disapproving glare at me. I shrugged nonchalantly in response, replying, "Hey, you asked me what was in my head! And to be honest, I'm absolutely starving right now..."
With an air of annoyance, Gabriel stood up and retorted, "Then go ahead and starve, for all I care." He stormed off, leaving me taken aback but secretly grateful for his departure.
A few minutes later, to my surprise, Gabriel returned, holding a cheeseburger and a can of Pepsi. I looked up at him, bewildered and asked, "Wait, I thought you left? And why are you giving this to me?"
Gabriel responded with a hint of annoyance, "Just be grateful I have money today. You said you were starving, so do you not want it?"
I hastily accepted the cheeseburger, my hunger overtaking my temporary confusion. "I didn't say I didn't," I hastily replied.
Gabriel muttered under his breath, half in annoyance, "Cute..." Puzzled, I looked up at him, questioning, "What was that?" Gabriel, suddenly realizing he had spoken out loud, quickly replied, "Oh, I said you're ugly!"
In response to Gabriel's teasing comment, I stood up and playfully pinched him, eliciting a chuckle from him. He gently admonished me, saying, "Hey, we're in the library. We can't make too much noise."
As we exited the library, I was engrossed in my phone and didn't notice when Gabriel promptly grabbed it with a chuckle. I was being shorter than him, reached for my phone but he held it high out of me to reach, thoroughly amused by my attempts.
With a mix of playfulness and determination, I threatened, "If you don't give it back to me, I'm seriously going to hurt your balls." I lunged for my phone, trying to reclaim it from his grasp.
After successfully retrieving y phone, I dashed out of the school, only to unexpectedly crash into Mrs. Grayson. The older woman chuckled, amused by the collision. "Watch out, kiddo," Mrs. Grayson warned with a smile.
I was surprised by Mrs. Grayson's presence, inquired, "What are you doing here?"
Mrs. Grayson explained, "We require your assistance. We've initiated an investigation, but we're facing challenges in knowing exactly where to begin. We urgently need your help to catch the elusive serial killer."
I was feeling somewhat self-deprecating, responded, "You're all detectives... What on earth could you possibly need a stupid girl in your office for?"
With a pleading undertone, Mrs. Grayson softly entreated, "Please..."
I was initially somewhat reluctant, eventually nodded my agreement. I followed Mrs. Grayson to the police station.
I was briskly striding towards the case board, declared with determination, "Why are we standing around, waiting? Let's get to work."
Mrs. Grayson, with a knowing smile, responded, "Indeed, let's unravel the mystery of who dealt the fatal blow to Henry Allen."
TO BE CONTINUED