Roxy drove home as fast as he could after hearing his mother's trembling voice. His father was dead. The words echoed in his mind again and again, refusing to feel real. His hands tightened around the steering wheel as fear and confusion battled inside him. Nothing about this day made sense.
When he reached the house, the sight in front of him stopped him in his tracks.
Police cars surrounded the property. Red and blue lights flashed across the walls. Officers moved around the entrance while forensic doctors carried equipment inside.
Roxy's heart began pounding.
He rushed toward the house. "What's going on?" he shouted. "Why are there police here?"
The officers turned toward him, but before anyone could answer, a familiar figure stepped forward.
Kim.
The same police officer Roxy had approached earlier while investigating Smily's death.
"Roxy," Kim said calmly.
Roxy's confusion immediately turned into suspicion. "Why are you here? Who called you?"
Kim didn't hesitate.
"I did," he replied.
Roxy stared at him. "You what?"
"I alerted my team," Kim said. "There may have been foul play involved in your father's death."
For a brief moment, Roxy thought Kim was trying to help.
But then Kim spoke again.
"And right now," he added, "you're the main suspect."
The words struck like lightning.
"What?" Roxy shouted in disbelief. "Are you out of your mind?"
Kim signaled to another officer, who handed him a small sealed evidence bag.
Inside was a syringe.
"We found this in your room," Kim explained.
Roxy's eyes widened. "That's not mine."
Kim continued calmly. "The forensic report shows the chemical inside this syringe matches the substance found in your father's bloodstream."
Roxy felt the air leave his lungs.
"And," Kim added, "your fingerprints are on it."
"That's impossible!" Roxy yelled.
His mind raced.
Someone had planted it.
Someone wanted him to take the blame.
Across the room, his mother stood frozen in shock, her face pale with fear.
"Roxy…" she whispered.
But the officers had already stepped forward.
Within seconds, cold metal handcuffs locked around his wrists.
The accusation hung in the air like a dark cloud.
Roxy was being arrested for murdering his own father.
The interrogation room was cold and silent.
Roxy sat across from Kim, the bright light above them making the room feel suffocating.
Kim placed the evidence bag on the table.
"Why did you kill your father?" he asked bluntly.
Roxy didn't respond.
His mind was still trying to understand how everything had fallen apart so quickly.
Kim leaned forward.
"You were already investigating your sister's death," he said. "Maybe you discovered something about your father you didn't like."
Still, Roxy remained silent.
Kim's patience was beginning to disappear.
"Where did you go after you killed him?" he asked.
Roxy's silence continued.
Hours passed.
The interrogation became harsher.
At times, the officers pushed him physically, trying to break his silence.
But Roxy refused to say anything.
He knew the truth.
Someone was framing him.
Finally, Kim slammed the table in frustration and stormed out of the room.
Inside his office, he stared at the syringe evidence again.
Everything pointed toward Roxy.
Yet something about the case felt too perfect.
Too clean.
Too deliberate.
Meanwhile, Roxy sat alone in the interrogation room, trapped in a nightmare he couldn't escape.
But deep inside, one thought remained clear.
Someone had planned this.
And he would find out who.