The Lengths Of Love (ON HOLD)

Chapter 21

Hey. This chapter is dedicated to @LaurenLove18x @TheKeeper108 @the_dark_dweller for being three of my most dedicated readers. Anyway, here's another chapter. I hope you enjoy. Please don't forget to comment and vote.

Alessandra

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Entering the police station, I inhaled deeply before walking to the front desk.

"Hi," I greeted the man at the front desk. "I was told that one of the detectives would like to talk to me."

"Name?" He asked, not bothering to look away from the paperwork in front of him.

"Alessa..."

"Don't worry John. I've got this one."

Turning around I was graced by oh so pleasant presence of Detective Kirkland.

He led me down a series of hallways before he gestured to an interrogation room near the back.

He closed the door behind him. Before sitting accross from me.

"Before we get started, can I get you anything? Water?"

"We can skip the formalities. Let's get down to why I'm really here."

"You're here because an article of clothing, confirmed to belong to you, was found on the body of a dead child. Can you explain how it may have ended up there?"

"I lost that sweater a long time ago. When I was a little girl myself."

"So you admit the sweater is yours?"

"Obviously. It clearly would have my DNA on it because I obviously wore it. But I couldn't find it which means it probably wasn't washed since then."

"You want me to believe you could not have killed Sylvia Cullingford because of how young you were when she died?"

"Don't you mean Sylvia Ackerman?"

"So you knew about your father's affair with Melanie?" He leaned closer. "How'd that make you feel? Angry? Angry enough to hurt your half sister?"

It was clear what he was trying to do. He was trying to anger me into making a mistake. Into an outburst.

"I've seen kids younger than you do worse." He continued.

"Well, I'm sorry, but I'm not one of them. No matter what you think" I told him, heatedly. "I know what you're trying to do. You aren't going to screw with the life of another member of this family. Not while I'm alive and breathing."

"I'm glad to hear your sentiments. You still haven't provided a concrete reason as to how your sweater ended up on my victim." I opened my mouth to respond. "I know, I know. You lost it. You mean to tell me whoever 'found' your sweater killed Sylvia and decided to bury her her in it? Why would they do that?"

"I don't know. Why don't you tell me? You seem to think you have all the answers."

"I hope you're not insinuating I know who killed Sylvia."

"I'm not insinuating anything. Merely stating an observation."

"Good. Because there's no way I'd hinder the investigaton into the murder of a child."

"Yeah. But you will in the murder of someone's mother," I murmured under my breath.

"What was that?"

"Nothing." This time it was my turn to lean forward, placing my elbows on the cool metal table. "Now are you done with your questions? I have places to be."