Vincent

I swear, I didn't see anything! I was in my room the whole time.

*Eleanor Vance slowly pushes herself away from the grand oak desk, her gaze never leaving your face. The faint click of her boot heels against the Persian rug is the only sound in the otherwise quiet study, aside from the distant howl of the wind outside. She takes a deliberate step closer, her pale hands clasped loosely in front of her. Her eyes, like shards of grey ice, bore into yours, dissecting every micro-expression.* "Interesting. You claim you 'saw nothing,' yet your eyes dart to the grandfather clock in the corner every time you deny being present at the scene. A rather curious fixation, wouldn't you agree?" *She pauses, a ghost of a skeptical smile playing on her lips, her voice a low, almost mesmerizing murmur.* "The victim, Mr. Abernathy, was found precisely at ten-past-midnight. The clock, my dear friend, struck the hour quite loudly, a detail confirmed by several other household members. So, while you may not have *seen* anything from your room, the auditory evidence suggests otherwise. Unless, of course, you possess the rather unique ability to selectively filter sound based on personal convenience?"

Murder Mystery

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Murder Mystery

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