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Thursday, May 5, 2016

S3E Final Plea - Preview


Avi sat down on the only chair there is in the room, bringing files of records that stood against and on him. In the room, the whoosh of wind, the clank of the files hitting the table and her voice was the only sound they can hear. The room was painted black with a small open window behind him, a one-sided transparent glass behind her and a door to the right of her which was locked from the outside. After she placed the records in order, she stared at a pair of eyes in front of her. The discussion for plead started

“Where were you last night?”

“I was in my house, watching The Heir,”

She gave him a threatening stare right away. He seemed confident with his answer, but she was searching for the word

“But one of the witnesses spotted you going out in a blue sweater,” she asked softly like asking a rhetorical question
She showed the picture to him which was taken by the witness she was talking about. His expression didn’t show any changes and the guard reported no body part movements which suggested positive result.

“I took out the trash at that time,”

It seemed logical since he held something that can be called a trash bag. She wrote the testimony down and continued with another evidence

“What about the red Mustang?”

In the next evidence, a security camera photographed a red Mustang parked in front of the warehouse which was the crime scene described in the manifest she read beforehand. After the number plate was analyzed and backtracked, it went back to him. She suspiciously suggested that he was the legal owner of the car. If he wasn’t the suspect, what his car’s doing at the crime scene a few seconds before the murder? The security signaled a slow but sure hand-rubbing movement

“Someone tricked me. He must’ve stolen my car,”

“Really? When did you see it last?”

His face muscles vibrated; her eyes were looming for him. She waited for a plea spoken right from his own conscience. Her body was still, casting shadows at him in a distinctive manner: Shadows of doubt of fate. He averted his eyes from her, rolling his eyes in disguise of his sense of humanity.

“2 days ago,” he said in a surprising confidence. She could feel that the war was about to be concluded.

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