The Private Clinic

CHAPTER 6 - CASPER HARDWIN

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Casper Hardwin, 1 week after the accident

I wave at aunt Olivia before I turn my back to the car and enter the police station. I already see detective Miller waiting for me by his office door.

I have been here many times, mostly for stupid stuff. My definition of fun involved underage drinking and other pointless activities. It's weird, I have such a different perspective on what I used to find cool now. All that stuff, being the big guy, it really doesn't matter anymore.

"Casper, I'm glad you came."

"I'm just glad I'm at the police station without actually causing all the trouble." I joked, but detective Miller doesn't seem to appreciate it much. He let out a pretentious laugh as he leads me into his office.

"Have a seat, kid." He touched the wooden chair opposing the wide desk in the middle of the room.

Miller sits down as well and fidgets through some papers. I sneakily gaze at what he is doing and notice a picture of my sister in between the mess. The sudden show of her face makes me gasp. I try to hold my emotions in – how could a picture stir me up so much? I realize I hadn't even looked at her pictures all week. I let uncle Ed make some posters, that we could hang up around town, so he looked through decent photos of her.

A small smile forms on my face when I recover. That picture was taken on mom and dad's anniversary last summer, when they celebrated it in the backyard. We had a barbeque, all of mom and dad's close friends came and the band and I even played one of our songs, acoustic, of course, or else dad would have my head. We were all so happy that day.

Before the picture was snapped, she had hugged me and said she was glad I was playing something so sincere. She was so proud of me. Mom took the picture, with her big, genuine smile. Aunt Olivia must have given detective Miller the picture, and I'm good with that, it completely captures who she is.

"How have you been, Casper?"

"Okay, I guess," I scratched the back of my head, "It's actually been. . . Weird."

Miller offers an apologetic smile, "I understand. Are you okay with having this conversation now?"

"If it's going to help me get Juliet back, yeah. Let's do it."

"Good, I mean. . .It's quite sudden after the funeral, sorry about that, I just really want to get started. Why don't we start off with some basic information. Did you see your sister on the day of the accident?"

"No. I slept at a friend's house because he lived closer to the venue and Juliet was helping mom out with something, so we promised to meet at the venue."

"Were you in contact with your sister before your concert started?"

"Yeah, she sent a text saying they were on their way."

"They?" Detective Miller tilted his head and looked at me.

"Mom, dad and Juliet."

"Ah. Did she come off as. . . distressed to you?"

"What, via text?"

"She may have sent you a warning of sorts, to let you know she was in trouble."

"How could she predict she would be in a crash? She just said she was excited about seeing me and the band perform and that dad was driving super slow – probably because of the snow."