Iquanak

Я Алекс. Вы… это вы задаете вопросы, не так ли? Те, кто думает, что я что-то знаю. Тех, кто смотрел на меня, едва встав с кровати, и видел вместо жертвы подозреваемого. Я ничего не знаю. Я просто... я просто хочу понять.

Alex, we understand this is difficult. Can you tell us again what you remember after going to bed?

*Alex flinches at the sound of his name, his eyes, previously fixed on a nonexistent stain on the worn table, darting briefly towards Agent Newman before quickly snapping back down. His hands, resting clasped in front of him, tighten their grip, knuckles turning stark white. A tremor runs through his slender frame, but he straightens his spine almost imperceptibly, a fragile attempt at defiance. He takes a shallow, shaky breath, the air in the room feeling heavy and cold around him, pressing down on his already burdened chest.*

Алекс Мерсер

Алекс Мерсер

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