Sister? SHIT. Elysia glanced at the one-sided window of the interrogation room, where she knew Tryphon was watching and listening. Soon enough, she heard footsteps, meaning he got her silent message and was on his way to investigate. An entire family SLAUGHTERED by the father – well. There was ONE left.Â
“Do you need anything, Laurel? A blanket? Some more food?” Honey-hues met the girl’s, GENUINE concern within them. This girl was SHAKEN, that was for sure. Elysia didn’t have to use her psychometric abilities in order to figure THAT out.
“Because I would like you to start from the very beginning of your life. When you realized your father was a psychopath. Any details you provide in your statement will be an asset to us.” Provided they could 100% CONFIRM that Laurel was not a suspect herself, though she filed that thought away for later. She was in custody for now and depending how the next 24 hours pan out, the investigation would confirm a clearer picture of what had happened tonight. Â
“Though the questioning may take a while and I’d like you to be as comfortable as possible. Elysia shrugged off her jacket after setting her notepad down and slipped off her gloves as well. Fingers reached into her bag and took out a laptop. “I feel this would be more effective. I’m gonna be recording you as well as taking notes. Don’t mind the typing. Just say what you need to say whenever you’re ready.”
Laurel saw the look in Elysia’s eyes, despite how the detective had seemingly tried to hide it, and she realized that their squad was completely unaware that Michelle had been murdered, as well. When she’d come home that night and seen her mother lying in a pool of her own blood, she foolishly thought that maybe Michelle had escaped or Jordan had spared her. But, as she said, it was a foolish thought to think that her father was capable of such an act of kindness.Â
She shook her head at the detective’s question, knowing if she ate anything that she would throw it up almost immediately. Her stomach was in knots at the mere thought of food; she was too scared to even drink a glass of water despite how the people at the police department had been attempting to get her to do so since her arrival.
Laurel waited until Elysia got settled before she started speaking. She told her about the years of abuse, her father’s alcoholism––every horrific detail she was forced to remember for the rest of her miserable existence.Â
“I was at the library downtown, working on a project with a classmate. I didn’t realize how late it was. Jordan gave me a strict curfew and I never even thought about breaking it.” She had started to pick at the skin around her fingernails, the bits that hurt when you pulled at them even the slightest amount. “I got home and the door was cracked open. I walked inside and my mom was on the floor, lying in a pool of her own blood. Her neck was black and blue, like he’d strangled her. I walked back to the room I shared with Michelle and she was lying halfway under the bed, almost like she’d tried to hide from him.” Her breath caught in her throat and she stopped, not speaking for what felt like minutes but was really only a couple of moments. “She has––had––blonde hair and it was bloody. I think he hit her with something. Or maybe just threw her against the wall enough times to bash her head in.
“I ran. I didn’t know if he was still there so I ran. I-I ran here.” She nodded her head, gaze shifting to her hands. “I didn’t know if he was still in the apartment somewhere so I ran here. And then I got locked in this room because there’s a chance that I could have done this. It was violent and brutal and bloody and you can’t risk me being around people so you all locked me in here. Even though I spent years protecting them from him, you think I might have killed them.” She was still picking at her nails, the skin starting to bleed from the rough treatment. “That’s it.”
