It was a small room.
A small, suffocating room.
A small, suffocating, square room with grey-painted walls and small cameras positioned on each upper corner.
The two men sat on the uncomfortable, wooden chairs, a rectangular table between them.
Leo West was having the worst day.
The Detective in glasses and a neat suit, Det.Donovan was on his case. He kept bombarding Leo with questions and giving him a suspicious look. Anything Leo would say, the Detective would note down. That disturbed him. He wondered what the Detective was writing in that little notebook.
Unlike Leo, the Detective was super calm and collected, with his legs crossed under the table and a small smile touching his face every now and then. That made Leo a little uneasy.
How could the Detective be so calm when
