Alice (White) laughed, half-joking, half-serious.
“Oh, by the way…
I’ve met Detective White before, you know.
Golden hair, eyes blue as the ocean—looks like some elf who walked straight out of a fantasy novel or manga.
What guy wouldn’t fall for a face like that, right?”
She gave a quiet laugh.
“You and me, though?
No chance.
Oh wait.
Guys only like me.
They couldn’t exactly like you, could they?
You’re a guy.”
Steven froze.
Only for a beat.
But that was enough for her to notice.
Then he forced a polite smile.
Alice shifted her position on the sofa, her voice lazy and unconcerned.
“Anyway, I’m guessing she must’ve panicked the first time she killed someone, right?
Probably wrapped the body in a coat, tied a rock to it, and dumped it in the river.
That’s how it always goes in movies.
Quick and simple and even if the police pull it back out later, the fingerprints are already gone.”
Steven stopped breathing for half a second.
He lifted his glass and took a drink to hide it, but his fingers tightened slightly around it.
“Well…
that method is fairly common.”
Alice shot him a quick glance.
A faint crease near the corner of his eye.
A tiny movement in his throat.
Small things.
But enough for her to place another question mark beside his name.
Alice kicked both feet up onto the chair, like she was just making casual conversation.
“Oh, and about Andrea… I overheard at the station that the fatal stab on the first victim was on the right side of the neck.”
She twirled the cookie in her fingers and shrugged, as if discussing the weather.
“But here’s the thing… I walked past the interrogation room and saw her holding her water glass with her left hand.
To land a strong stab with her non-dominant right hand?
That’s some serious talent.
Peak performance, honestly.”
Steven looked at her.
Just looked.
The corner of his mouth twitched into a faint smile the kind people wear when they know a secret and are trying hard to pretend they don’t.
He lifted his glass and took a sip to cover it.
“Andrea…” he said slowly, “held a surgical scalpel with her right hand right in front of me.
Speaking of knives, I just… happened to remember that.
But I’m certain Andrea isn’t the killer.
She’s a very kind person.”
Alice tilted her head toward Steven, gave a quiet laugh, and popped another cookie into her mouth.
“Why’d you suddenly remember a surgical scalpel, though?
That’s kinda weird.”
She lowered one foot to the floor, still sprawled across the sofa, chewing as she spoke in a teasing tone.
“I totally didn’t sneak a look at the case file.
I mean—oops.
I just happened to see it.”
She raised a finger.
“Turns out Andrea studies psychology.
Psy.
Cho.
Lo.
Gy.”
Her eyebrows lifted.
“And somehow she’s using a surgical scalpel?”
Alice gave a lazy shrug, looking less like someone defending herself for peeking at confidential files and more like someone trying to explain why she’d stolen the last cookie.
“Psychology.
Let me say that again psychology.
So why exactly is she running around with a scalpel?”
She took another bite.
“What, was she planning to crack somebody’s skull open for research or something?
Come on.
Tell me.”
Alice narrowed her eyes and tilted her head at an almost perfect angle.
“Unless…
you happened to be there when she did it?”
Her smile widened slightly.
“Helping someone cover up a murder is a pretty serious crime, you know~.”
She burst out laughing immediately, as if she’d just told the funniest joke in human history.
“Haha!
I’m kidding.
Relax, big bro.”
She threw out one hand dramatically, already imagining a glorious future ahead of her with the kind of confidence that had absolutely no business existing.
“When I take your statement later, make sure you tell me that whole surgical-scalpel thing word for word, okay?
That’s gold.
Pure gold.”
She sat up slightly.
“Boom.
Another inch added to the prosecution file.
Just thinking about how gorgeous my résumé is gonna look makes me wanna cry.”
Still sprawled across the sofa, she punched the air with an energy fueled entirely by delusion.
“Sooner or later, a few cases like this, plus my grandpa giving me just a tiny little boost BOOM!
I’m running my own squad.
That black-haired undercut guy is gonna stand there with his eyes popping out of his head.
Ahhh…”
Then she pointed dramatically toward the ceiling, as though she were personally painting the future across it.
“And then, one beautiful day, I become the city’s police chief.”
She raised one finger.
“I’ll introduce the most humanitarian policies in history.
Interns get respect.
No more running errands.
No more getting yelled at.
And every month—free candy and snacks.”
Her eyes practically sparkled.
“The interns will look at me like I’m a god.”
She paused.
“Like an actual GOD.”
She threw both arms into the air.
“They’ll be chanting, ‘Long live Alice!
Long live Alice!'”
Alice grinned.
“Can you imagine it?”
Then, without waiting for anyone else to answer, she raised her voice herself.
“LONG LIVE ALICE!
LONG LIVE ALICE!”
Her voice rang with absurdly sincere enthusiasm.