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IF ENNA KNEW before-hand that she'd end up in a cold interrogation room with nothing but a glass of water and mirror that she wasn't supposed to know was actually a window, she would have grabbed a jacket. She let her head fall back and swung it back and forth, releasing the tension in her neck as a desperate attempt to stay awake. In her head, she had already meticulously planned what she would leave out whenever an officer came into the room to question her. As she waited anxiously, she rubbed her wrist with her thumb where there were faded marks from the handcuffs.
Spencer Reid had his arms crossed as he stood behind the window, attempting to get into the mind of the girl before him. He fixated on the way her eyes avoided looking into the mirror, like she couldn't stand the thought of looking at herself. Every time she did look into the mirror, she looked resentful toward herself. Spencer couldn't help but relate to how she felt.
Spencer swallowed the sympathy he felt for the girl as his boss entered the room. "Has she done anything?" Hotch asked as he stepped into the observation room.
"No," Spencer said with curiosity laced in his voice, "hasn't even taken a sip of water."
"She could be trying to keep her DNA off of the cup," Hotch suggested, also crossing his arms. He had a stern stare on the girl.
"Garcia said her prints weren't in the system. Actually"—he turned to face the unit chief—"Garcia didn't find anything for an Enna White. But she found some information on an Odessa Collins, who happens to look exactly like her."
"You need to go in there and start questioning," he demanded, pointing at the girl who was had given up in her fight against sleep. Her head rested in her arms on the table, and her long brown hair spilled all over the metal surface like chocolate syrup.
Spencer nodded and grabbed the two files off of the back table. One contained pictures and an analysis of the crime scene, along with other details. The other was the one JJ had dropped off as a favor for Garcia; it had information on Odessa Collins—it was a very slim file.
"My name is Dr. Spencer Reid," he said as he opened the door, closing it behind him and looking at the girl. He proceeded to sit down and open the file filled with crime scene photos in front of her so she could look at them.
Enna lifted her head and squinted at the tall and lanky man entering the room. "Doctor? At the police station?" She wasn't sure if she was imagining it all or not. She knew she'd been up for at least twenty-four hours, and stressing over being locked in an interrogation room wasn't giving her more energy.
