The last person to see her alive was me. The last person to speak words to her was me.

“The only reason your too afraid to change is because you can’t!”

I had screamed her face streaming with tears.

“I have forever to change. I’m trying.”

She had yelled back.

“Forever isn’t long enough,” I had whispered, my face inches from hers. “If you keep making excuses.”

I walked out of her house that night, my house. Only to find her gone the next morning. With no sign of where she’d gone.

Then hours later. Bars in front of me, sleeping in a cell next to murderers. Criminals. Feeling like if I fell asleep it’d be the last time I ever did.

“You alive?”

The voice came from the back of the cell. I’m the darkest corner.

I turned to face whoever it was, my heart pounding in my chest.

“Yeah,” I answered, “I am.”

He let out a small chuckle, “How old are you. 15.”

“Eighteen,” I correct, instantly feeling self conscious.

He let out another laugh, “And already your in here. For murder.”

I shook my head, “I’m not a criminal. Or a murderer.”

He came out of the dark, his face dirty, “Let me tell you something,” he said, standing a few feet away from me, “you see, we all think that the only criminals and murderers are people who have done wrong. In reality we all do wrong. We’re all bad, it’s just only some of us get caught. Like you and me. And the others, they go on breaking hearts. Hurting feelings and making people so depressed that they end there life’s.”

Something told me he had had something happen to him. Maybe something I didn’t want to know.

“I trust you,” he said, sinking back into the shadow, “You don’t have that glint in your eyes. Everyone who’s ever ended a life has had it. Part guilt, part regret and part revenge. But you, don’t.”

I couldn’t stop the smile from forming, “So you know. You know it wasn’t me!”

He laughed a hand reaching out from the shadow, “I’m not saying that. I’m saying that who ever did this, they’re good. Too good. And framing a kid like yourself. That’s were they messed up. You kids couldn’t plan a murderer if it was your dream.”

Now he wasn’t making sense, “Huh?” I asked, leaning against the cool cement wall.

“What’s your name?” He asked.

“Matt.”

“Well Matt. I’m saying that maybe you should figure this out. Whoever killed your sister. They could be dangerous.”

My sister? The girl I had been talking to wasn’t my sister. She was my friend. Since third grade.

“She isn’t my sister.”

He laughed, “My bad. I assumed. it’s the same either way. He’s dangerous.”

Something about him was rubbing me the wrong way, I knew for sure he didn’t kill Rebekah. Because I already knew who did.

But still, something about him made me feel scared. The person who killed Rebekah isn’t dangerous. She might just be the nicest person ever.

But maybe nice can go evil with a few minutes. Maybe he’s right. I just wish I could tell someone this. Rebekah’s long lost sister can’t be on the lose anymore.

Not if she’s this close to ruining another life.

“How?” I asked, “How do I do this?”

He came out of the shadow once more, “That’s for you to figure out. And for you to solve.”

The cell door opened and a girl was thrown in.

“Get your hands off of me!” She screamed, rubbing the red circle on her arm.

She looked at me her eyes instantly filled with fear.

I recognized her. Light blonde hair, always in a pony tail. Dark almost black eyes. Mallory Claire.

“Matt?” She asked, still rubbing her arm. She let out a laugh, “Could this get any weirder.”

I nodded stepping closer, “Maybe. Why you here?”

Her smile vanished, she started rubbing harder, “Why is anyone here?”

She took a quick breath fling her arms, “You know the real question is, why are you here?”

I laughed, “Because you made it seem like I killed your sister. My best friend.”

Her eyes looked genuinely confused, “Rebekah?” She asked. “I’ve been gone. For ages. I’ve only just come back. I haven’t even seen my sister.”

Maybe she’s good a lying, or maybe she’s telling the truth. I wanted her to be lying, I wanted a reason against me.

“Matt,” the man in the shadow stepped out, he had a spark in his eye. A glint.

“Maybe you shouldn’t jump to conclusions. Rebekah Claire died of an hit to the head. He stuck a hand in his pocket and brought out a small rock. At first I thought it was the lighting in the cell but then I realized it was blood. Rebekah’s blood.

“You?” My voice was shaking, for five seconds I had thought it might have been him. It didn’t make sense. Mallory made sense. Long lost sister, never to be seen again. No one would believe me.

But then again it set her up for scam. The perfect way to blame me, to blame her. The perfect way to make two people go crazy. To make a murder that no one could solve. Except it was so simple. So easy to see the truth. But why couldn’t anyone see it? He had the rock, he had everything.