Interrogation and Shock

The precinct buzzed with activity. Phones rang incessantly, officers bustled around, and the fluorescent lights cast a harsh glow over the rows of desks and holding cells. Victoria sat in the cold, metal chair, staring blankly at the scuffed table in front of her. Her hands, still trembling, were clasped tightly together, the knuckles white. The events of the night replayed in her mind in an endless loop—Amaya's crazed eyes, the gunshot, Malcolm crumpling to the ground. She couldn't shake the image, no matter how hard she tried. 'Victoria Watson?" A detective called from the doorway, his voice pulling her from her thoughts. He was tall, with a worn look about him, like he'd seen too much in his years on the force. 'I'm Detective Harris. Why don't we talk?" Victoria nodded numbly, following him into a small, dimly lit room. The door shut behind her with a heavy thud, and she took a seat at the table. Detective Harris settled into the chair opposite her, setting a small recorder on the table between them. 'Do you need anything? Water?" Harris asked, his tone professional but not unkind. Victoria shook her head. 'I just… I don't understand why I'm here. I didn't do anything," she said, her voice breaking. 'We're just trying to get a clear picture of what happened tonight," Harris explained. He clicked the recorder on and leaned back, studying her. 'Tell me, in your own words, what led to the shooting." Victoria swallowed hard, her mind struggling to piece together the night's events. 'We were having dinner—both families. It was supposed to be about the wedding… to Louis," she began, her voice trembling. 'Everything was tense. No one really wanted to be there, but we were trying to make it work. Then Amaya… she just appeared." Harris nodded, jotting down notes as she spoke. 'Did you know Amaya was coming?" 'No," Victoria said quickly. 'She just… she barged in. I had no idea. And she had a gun. She was yelling, screaming… it all happened so fast." Harris's pen hovered over his notebook. 'What was she yelling about?" Victoria squeezed her eyes shut, trying to recall the exact words. 'She was angry. At me, at Louis… She said I was trying to take everything from her. I didn't even know she was still… involved like that. She pointed the gun at me." Her voice wavered, the fear creeping back in. 'I couldn't move. I was so scared." Harris leaned forward, his eyes narrowing. 'And what happened next?" 'Malcolm —Louis's father—he jumped in front of me. He… he saved me," Victoria whispered, her eyes filling with tears. 'The gun went off, and he… he fell. There was so much blood." Harris scribbled something down, his face unreadable. 'Did Amaya say why she was targeting you specifically?" Victoria shook her head slowly. 'No, but… she's always been possessive of Louis. I guess she thought… I don't know. That I was stealing him from her?" The detective nodded thoughtfully. 'And your relationship with Louis—how would you describe it?" Victoria glanced down at her hands. 'Complicated," she admitted. 'He is my husband, but it's not… It wasn't our choice. Our families arranged it. I think Amaya found out and… snapped." Harris paused, tapping his pen against the table. 'So, you're saying you had no knowledge of Amaya's plans to disrupt the dinner?" 'None," Victoria said firmly. 'I would never have agreed to this if I'd known she was capable of something like that." Detective Harris sat back, scrutinizing her for a long moment. The silence stretched, punctuated only by the distant sounds of the precinct. Victoria's heart pounded in her chest, each beat echoing the dread she felt. 'Alright," Harris finally said, clicking off the recorder. 'We'll need you to stay available for further questioning, but for now, you're free to go." Victoria nodded, relief washing over her, though it did little to ease the churning in her stomach. She stood, legs shaky, and followed Harris back to the waiting area. She caught a glimpse of her reflection in the glass of a nearby office—pale, eyes wide, looking every bit at the shocked victim she felt inside. 'Can I… can I call someone?" she asked, her voice small. Harris nodded, gesturing to a phone on the desk. 'Go ahead." Victoria hesitated, then picked up the receiver, dialing Louis's number with trembling fingers. It rang once, twice, three times. No answer. She bit her lip, blinking back tears. She didn't know who else to call—her parents were still at the hospital, dealing with Malcolm's critical condition. She was alone, utterly and completely. Setting the phone down, she took a shaky breath. She could still hear Amaya's voice and see the wild look in her eyes. The betrayal, the anger—it all swirled around Victoria, threatening to pull her under. She wrapped her arms around herself, trying to hold together the pieces that felt like they were shattering. The door to the precinct swung open, and Louis rushed in, his expression frantic. He spotted Victoria and immediately crossed the room, pulling her into a tight embrace. 'Are you okay?" he asked, his voice laced with worry. 'I came as soon as I could. They wouldn't let me in." Victoria clung to him, the tears she'd been holding back finally spilling over. 'I don't know, Louis. I don't know if I'm okay." Louis held her tighter, his own eyes glistening. 'We'll figure this out," he promised, though his voice wavered with uncertainty. 'We'll get through this. Together." For the first time that night, Victoria felt a sliver of comfort. But even in Louis's arms, she couldn't escape the feeling that everything was spiraling out of control and that the worst was yet to come.