Annabel's POV

The ride to the police station passed in complete silence. My wrists were cuffed in front of me, but no one spoke; not the officers beside me, not the detective sitting opposite, not even the driver.

The ride was as eerily silent as a graveyard. The only sound inside the vehicle was the rain beating against the windows.

I turned my head and looked at the detective, he was staring out of the window. His face gave nothing away.

If I hadn't seen that brief flicker of fear back at the mansion, I would have believed he thought I was a murderer.

But I had seen it. It had lasted less than a second, but long enough for my ever attentive eyes to notice.

The police car rolled through the station gates before coming to a stop. One of the officers opened the door.

"This way," he said.

I stepped out without resisting. After all, there was no point.

The station buzzed with activity, phones rang, officers hurried from one office to another, some looked up as I walked past in handcuffs, others whispered. I lowered my head and pretended as though I hadn't noticed that I was the subject of their gossip.

A few hours ago I had been the wife everyone envied. Now I was the woman accused of murdering her billionaire husband.

The detective led me into a small interrogation room.

There were two chairs, a metal table, grey walls, and nothing else.

"Sit." He said with no readable expression.

I obeyed.

He uncuffed one of my wrists from the chain before fastening it to a metal ring fixed to the table. Then he walked to the door.

"Nobody comes in until I say so." He ordered the other officers.

"Yes, sir." They replied. The door closed, and a lock clicked.

Then... Silence.

He remained standing for several seconds before finally turning to face me. Neither of us spoke.

I watched him, he watched me.

Finally, I broke the silence.

"Why did your face change?"

His expression remained blank.

"I don't know what you're talking about." He denied.

"When I said that wasn't Anthony."

"It was your husband."

"No." I said flatly. My answer came so quickly that even I surprised myself. "It wasn't."

He folded his arms.

"You're in shock." He tried to gaslight me.

"So are you." I calmly fired back at him.

For the first time, something shifted in his eyes. Only for a moment, then it disappeared.

"I think this interview is over." He turned towards the door.

"You saw it too." I dropped the bomb on him without coldly.

His hand stopped halfway to the handle. I felt my heartbeat quicken.

"I knew I wasn't imagining it."

He didn't move.

"The ring was on the wrong hand."

Silence.

"The scar was gone."

Still silence.

"And then..."

My voice became quieter.

"You looked at him."

I swallowed.

"You realised it."

The detective slowly turned back to face me. His expression was impossible to read.

"I don't know what you think you saw." He finally replied.

"You were going to arrest me." I pointed out.

"I did arrest you." He said as a matter of fact.

"But after I spoke..." I held his gaze. "...something changed."

Neither of us blinked.

"You dismissed the other officers."

No answer.

"You brought me here yourself."

Silence.

"You locked the door."

He finally sighed.

"Mrs. Smith."

"Annabel." I corrected him.

"...Annabel." His voice was calm. "You're exhausted."

"You still haven't denied it." I reminded him.

"I have." He said.

"No." I shook my head. "You've denied my words." I leaned forward as far as the handcuff would allow. "But you haven't denied your face."

For the first time since I'd met him, he looked away, only for a second. But it was enough.

A strange laugh escaped my lips. "I knew it."

He closed his eyes briefly before opening them again. "I don't know what game you think you're playing."

"I'm not playing one." I frowned.

Neither of us spoke.

Outside, I could hear muffled voices passing the interrogation room.

A phone rang somewhere down the corridor. Life carried on, as though mine hadn't just fallen apart.

When I spoke again, my voice was barely above a whisper. "You arrested me to protect me."

His jaw tightened.

"You thought if Anthony believed everyone had accepted that body was his..." I paused. "...he'd stop looking."

The detective remained completely still. Not a muscle moved, not a single word left his mouth. But he didn't interrupt me either.

That was all the answer I needed. A tear slid down my cheek. "It won't work."

He finally spoke. "You don't know that."

"I do." I smiled sadly. "You don't know Anthony."

The room fell silent again.

"Even if this cell protects me tonight..." I whispered, "...what about tomorrow?"

He said nothing.

"What about next week?"

Still nothing.

"What about next month?"

I laughed quietly. There wasn't a trace of happiness in it.

"You think prison walls can stop him?"

I looked down at my cuffed wrist.

"They can't."

When I raised my head again, my eyes met his.

"He'll find me."

Silence.

"He always does."

Another tear escaped before I could stop it.

"If he reaches me..."

My throat tightened.

"He won't kill me."

I could barely force the next words out.

"He'll make me wish he had."

The detective's expression hardened, but he still didn't speak.

"I don't know why you're trying to help me."

"I never said I was." He argued.

"I know." I nodded slowly.

"You don't have to." I took a shaky breath. "But thank you."

He frowned. "For what?"

"For trying." I replied.

The room became unbearably quiet.

I closed my eyes. When I opened them again, every last ounce of fear had disappeared, only exhaustion remained.

"I have one request."

He didn't answer.

"I don't expect you to grant it."

I swallowed hard.

"But I need you to hear me."

His eyes never left mine.

"Anthony will never leave me alone."

My voice trembled.

"He'll hunt me to the ends of the earth."

Another pause.

"And one day..."

I looked straight at him.

"...he'll find me."

A single tear rolled down my face.

"I don't want to die in his hands."

My voice broke.

"He'll torture me."

"He'll humiliate me."

"He'll make sure I regret every second I stayed alive."

I drew a slow, trembling breath.

"So before he gets the chance..."

My lips quivered.

"...I want you to do it."

For the first time, the detective's composure cracked. His eyes widened ever so slightly.

"I want you..."

My voice was almost inaudible.

"...to kill me."

The room fell into a suffocating silence.

"Please..."

I lowered my head.

"Help me die."