2507 Massachusetts Avenue, Anacostia, Washington, D.C., 5:10 a.m.

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 "Go to Christine and at least pretend to be her mother for a while," he said coldly.

I modestly nodded my head. "I have to change, and I'll take a few things with me," I announced.

I got out of his car and quickly ran towards the house. My car was parked where I parked it. I unlocked the door and stepped inside. Exhausted, I trudged down the hall to the bedroom. I needed to sit down and rest for a while. I removed my coat and threw it on the floor beside the bed. The clothes I was wearing were dirty with blood and smelled. I took out the first aid kit from the bathroom to bandage my wounds. I didn't know why Kent let me go because I couldn't prove my innocence to him, but I couldn't think about it anymore because, as Sam said, I couldn't give up on the investigation.

I took the bag from the closet and put it on the bed. I turned back to the closet. I stared at her. I pulled on some clean clothes and pulled out my backup Beretta 9, Colt 45, and spare magazines from the safe. I put my clothes and weapons in my bag. I took off my clothes.

Kent appeared in the doorway. I stood facing him in only my underwear. I put on my jeans.

"Why did you do that?" he asked menacingly.

"You can calm down. Can't you see I'm changing," indignantly. "I don't even know what you're talking about, and I already told you I didn't kill anyone." I tried to bandage my wounds, but I was weak and clumsy. He grabbed my hands. Very carefully.

"Phenomena. I'll help you," he offered. "will you answer my question?"

"What did I do?" I asked, confused.

"You left us. You left our daughter in front of the door, and you left," she said exasperated.

"I...I," I stammered.

I didn't know what to say. How should I react to something genuine and something that I did myself? He was right. I failed. I was playing my mother and my wife as well. I destroyed the only real relationship in my life.

"Say something," Kent yelled at me.

He squeezed my hands harder and harder. It hurt. I tried to pull him out, but he held me tight.

"Let me go!" I begged.

"Dad..." came a small voice.

I looked over Kent's shoulder. A sleepy Christine stood between the bedroom door.

"Bug," I said, trying to hide my tears. "come to me."

I quickly reached for the T-shirt that I put on. I held my hands in the direction Christine was running towards me. I took her in my arms. Kent stepped back and faked a smile. He stood by the bed, looking around, peering into my bag. He noticed the open safe in the closet and the gun in the bag. I hugged Christine. I didn't want to let her go. Suddenly, Kent approached us and yanked her out of my arms. He carried her into the hallway, placed her on the floor, and closed the bedroom door. She was left alone in the corridor. She began to wail. She was afraid.

"What are you doing?" I shouted in shock. He grabbed my forearm.

"What do you think you're doing? Do you want to get arrested? You're on thin ice. There is no place for you in the office. And if you leave now with illegally held weapons, I will have to arrest you," he said thoughtfully. "there will be no way out for you," he added.

"You would," shocked. "I believed you. I came here because I believed I would be safe here, but as I see, I was wrong," I sighed. "Get away from me. I have to go," emotionally.

"No." He stopped me.

"I want to leave. Let me go!'

I defended myself. I tried to get him out. I freed one hand and slapped him. I couldn't take it anymore. I had to do it. I thought I would never do it, but I did. At first, I didn't believe it myself. And neither does he. I looked into his face. Suddenly, it was as if his soul had left, and only a machine remained. He had such a cold look on his face, like death. I started to have honest fear. I wanted to move away to feel calmer and safer, but it was as if my legs had become wooden. I couldn't move.

He looked at me like a bull at a bullfighter, like a killer at his victim. And what he did, I could never have imagined. He extended his right hand and punched me in the face. It was such a decisive blow that I immediately fell to the ground, but unfortunately, I hit my head on the bedside table next to the bed and passed out. I had a torn lip and a bruised face. It hurt, but only for a while. That is, until the moment I fell unconscious. I don't know what happened next. I woke up after I didn't know how long, and even then, I was still sluggish for a while. I looked around the house. I found that I was all alone there. Kent was nowhere to be found, and neither was Christine.

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