The scream woke my brother who came immediately to the rescue.
I trembled, my hands were shaking, my legs were shaking .. I doubled over, falling forward while my brother, shocked, was still ... a step behind me.
Slowly I turned around.
His expression conveyed nothing.
It was a wall.
The only nerve was shaking out at the back of his head, I do not know why, but this detail reassured me in part.
Mychol has always been better than me to convey emotions. He reassured us, consoled, cheered up ... Now ... Impassive.
I stood up, disconsolate and decided that it must have been the time I took his place.
I approached him, his face wet with tears and hugged him.
He did not return, still motionless.
But I did not care. I was there. "
A sigh. "Well, that's all I have to say, I've told you everything from the arrival in California so far, without forgetting details, I could go now."
I stated with a hint of presumption.

Commissioner stich: Do you feel guilty about your mother?
He has not interrupted me once since I started talking and he did it now, at the most inappropriate time with an equally useless question.
But fuck, what do you think?
Did I push my mother from the balcony?
But seriously did you ask me this question?
I do not want to answer.
I look away on the walls, a dark gray.
I notice that we are in a smaller room. But it's no wonder at the end, I'm at the police station for questioning my mother's case, I'm not in a ballroom. On one wall is a window that shows the corridor outside where my brother awaits my exit with anxiety. He has already done it before, when he came out, they seemed relaxed and aware that it was not him. In case it was a person who pushed my mother downstairs, as the investigations say.
Who? If so, that night someone came into the apartment while I ... Mychol .. We slept .. How did we hear nothing? ..

Then I decide to look at it.
Black hair encased in a perfect ponytail. Eyes of a blue color, very open, under the effect of the black mascara he used. You do not notice a foundation or concealer, but what you see a lot is the bright red lipstick.
His gaze almost worries me. He looks at me as if he wants to read me inside and affirm his hypothesis.
He really believes it was me.
Why never? Why did I say I had no worries when I saw my mother swallow some pills as if there was no tomorrow? Yes, I recognize it's strange for a daughter, not doing anything.
But mom always had anxiety attacks, hysterics ... I did not think you wanted ...
Kill.

Commissioner Stich. : Miss Stazzuart? '