TIMOTHY POV
In the cold, stark interrogation room, Timothy sat with clenched fists beneath the table, his resolve tested by the accusing glares of the two officers towering over him. Desperation gnawed at him, urging him to withstand their abuse and accusations as he yearned to reach Evie.
"Where were you on the night of the murder?" one officer demanded, his voice cutting through the tense silence.
"I already told you," Timothy replied, struggling to keep his voice steady. "I was walking home. Her father dropped me off there without a way to get back."
The officer's eyes narrowed, skepticism evident in his gaze. "And how do we know you're not lying? How do we know you didn't plant the gun?"
"I didn't give the gun to Mia," Timothy insisted, frustration bubbling beneath the surface. "I
