The Heartthrob Won't Leave

Epilogue

She sat in the room, tapping her dark-coloured nails. The table was metal, covered in scratches, so many that even though it was a reflective material, nothing could be seen within. She didn't know how long she had been there, staring at the exact same things. The camera up in the far corner, the metal chair on the other side of the table, the two sided mirror. She wasn't necessarily scared, just disillusioned. This hadn't been the first time, and she was sure it wouldn't be the last. When the door opened, she snapped her head up, sighting the individual step through the entryway. He was neatly dressed, with a white button shirt and tie, a board of some sort within his hand. The man's hard eyes fell on her, and they stayed on her as his arm forced back, closing the door behind him. The activated lock click was the loudest sound in the room, other than his polished shoes that squeaked across the patterned linoleum floor.

"Blakelyn Collins" she nodded "You know why you are here, don't you?" she nodded again. The man pulled back the chair with a scrape across the floor, sitting down on it, peering at her across the table. She knew he was trying to find something, anything to indicate she was in a state of panic or discomfort. But, for the first time in her life she actually wasn't.

"The case is still open into Stella's death, you understand that?" she shook her head "You are not a suspect, we know you that you didn't stab her-" he leaned over slightly, placing the board on the table "But, to do a thorough investigation and put it all to rest we have to travel every avenue, we have to turn over every dark spot. As the last person to see Stella alive, anything you have to say is of great importance to us"

"Yes" she spoke softly

"So-" he leaned up slightly, pulling a notepad and pen from his pocket "I know you've already talked to officers about what happened that night, but now that you've had some time to recover and think, I want you to tell me, without missing a single detail"

"Tell you what?" Blake questioned, leaning up on her elbows slightly.

"Everything, from the beginning-" the officer responded "Not just the night that Stella passed, but everything" her eyes widened slightly.

"Really? Everything?" Blake asked

"Yes, tell it all-" he insisted, holding up his notepad and pen for her to glimpse "where it all began, to start you can tell me how you met" How we met? The image of that same girl, reaching for the sun and the stars, her smile. It was overwhelming, causing a tightness within Blake's chest that she knew wouldn't ease for a long time. But, she took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. She had to, tell it all.

"Well-" she started, gently leaning up to look the man in the eyes, pushing back her hair "Stella and I...it started when I was six years old-"

The End