shattered | f.w, d.m

twenty two

Keziah.

February, 1998.

—

"Detective Nehemiah Obi."

She watched as the dark-skinned detective shut the door behind him and made his way towards the table she sat in. He held a file in his hand. A file that wasn't too thick, but not too thin.

Dumbledore arranged an empty classroom for questioning, so that was where Keziah sat now. Nothing but a table and two chairs were in the room, across from each other.

She was first to be questioned because—she assumed—it was her birthday and the game was for her birthday. Her stupid fucking birthday and that stupid fucking game.

So now, she watched as Detective Nehemiah Obi took his seat in front of her and placed the file before him. He planted his forearms over the smooth surface of the timber and looped his fingers over the file.

"Happy belated birthday, Keziah," he said kindly, accompanied by a fleeting smile.

"It wasn't, but thank you." She let a smile show on her lips before it disappeared.

"Wasn't happy?" He frowned at her and tilted his head merely to the side.

She smiled thoughtfully. "You know? Actually, it was happy." Her sardonic undertone was clear as day. "Someone got murdered. Granted I would've wanted to see it happen, but I suppose a win is a win, yeah?"

Nehemiah caught her sarcasm and nodded. "Fair enough," he said easily, rubbing at his beard. "I'm going to ask you a few questions. That's all. Are you okay with that?"

"Would it matter if I wasn't?" She shifted her hips forward and back in her chair, arms folded across her chest, knees wide.

He ignored her comment. "Who planned this game..." His voice trailed off. "What was it the game was called?"

"Assassin."

"Right." He nodded and placed his locked fingers over the table. "Who planned the game Assassin for your birthday?"

"My ex." Like the last answer, she answered honestly and calmly. Held his stare in hers.

He looked intimidating, but he reminded Keziah of Ishaan. Well-groomed and serious and fierce-looking, but warm and patient and observant. Perhaps it was just their occupations that blessed them with similar traits.

"Who is your ex?" Nehemiah never took his intense eyes off of her.

"Fred Weasley." She didn't shrink under his stare.

"Did you guys break up before or after your birthday?" he questioned curiously, eyebrows furrowed together.

"Before," she answered serenely.

"Huh..." He nodded and seemed as though he were slightly bewildered by the obvious. "Your ex-boyfriend planned a surprise birthday game for you?"

"I didn't ask for it." She made sure not to let her eyes dart to the file.

"But he did it anyway," he countered pleasantly.

She nodded to confirm. "He did it anyway."

"Who was there?" He wasn't writing stuff down or anything. He was just talking to her, but she could guess he had a wire that connected to someone on the other side. He was there to observe her body language.

Keziah named all the people that were there.

"Explain the object of the game to me," he lightly commanded.