I listened through the door as the detectives mulled over the evidence. They were completely stumped. On my way back to the entrance I passed the waiting room, where the Holloways were sobbing profusely. Well mostly Mrs. Holloway, Mr. Holloway was trying to comfort his wife. “Don’t worry Elaine, we’ll find him. We’ll get through this. We will find who killed our son.” His voice was so strong, so sure and confident, that I almost believed him myself. That’s when I remembered: they were looking for me.