I had hesitated before packing away my belongings, and had it not of been for the two pairs of eyes waiting my departure and the swarming attention of now an entire classroom seated in wait for the lesson, I would have protested.

Following the woman I now recognised as Maggie from admin, I could only assume it was a species of police that had required my presence. As we walked, I became curious as to what had been showcased on the news, what had they said, what had they shown? I knew that once left alone, I would search for the video. Had they revealed that Tony had been the one shot on the news before his family had even been notified. What a horrible way to have to discover your husbands demise..

"Miss Wright" I recognise the voice instantly as I lifted my head once in the cool administrations office "I have to say, I'm surprised to find you here" detective Isaia Woods began as he stood side by side with his familiar partner, Dawson James

I wanted to tell him that life went on, but I couldn't, I stopped myself, because it didn't, not for Tony. I was entirely for doing what I needed to do to have justice brought to his family, and Tony himself, but I wondered how much of my own life would need to be sacrificed for it.

I shrugged, unsure of how to respond

"We'd like to take you to the homicide unit for a detailed statement and we've organised for a sketch artist to meet with you, unfortunately the cameras within the store were not running at the time of the incident" Woods told me, his eyes roaming over my hat as a disguise for the wound

Again, I wanted to protest and go back to class. I was missing out, I wanted to resume daily life, but I knew that working with them needed to be done, so I nodded. This was important, so much more important.

Throughout the drive to the police station, I sat in the backseat of their sedan, staring out the window at the city flashing past. Dawson, as usual, remained silent, Isaia casually making conversation with me. He had asked what I was studying, then continuing to proudly tell me about his two teenage children, two daughters, one with a passion for animals, the other for a career much like her fathers. He was exactly the kind of doting father I wished I'd had. I could see the smile on his face when he spoke of them in the rear view mirror.

"If you need anything during your stay here with us, just let myself of detective James know and we can sort it out, if you need a break and this becomes too much, again, let us know, we don't want you to feel overwhelmed or uncomfortable, you've been through enough" Isaia told me as he directed me through the large building, into a door labelled as the Homicide Unit.

Thankfully, it wasn't as busy as the rest of the building had been, small desks were set up, only a handful of men and women sitting behind their computers, their attention drawn elsewhere.

I could hear fingertips tapping away against keyboards, the gentle hum of the air conditioning unit, papers flapping back and forth, pinned against a cork board directly beneath an air vent.

Few eyes lifted to spy my entry as I was lead into a small room off of the main space, the blinds on the door rattling when it opened and when it closed behind the detectives and I.

This room had been designed with a little more thought, there was a table in the centre, four cushioned chair tucked underneath. A vending machine was in the far right corner and a brown leather couch beneath a long window beside the door. The blinds to the open space unit were drawn shut, light filtering in through the open blinds behind the vending machine, the window long, looking down on the active city streets below.

"Take a seat, anywhere you'd like" Isaia instructed as be stood towards the door, his partner pulling a chair out at the table before sitting

Hesitantly I sat opposite him, placing my books and closed laptop down in front of me, folding my arms on top of them

Dawson placed a thick folder down on the table in front himself, opening it to an empty page of awaiting lines, clicking a pen to life.

I watched as he began to fiddle with the pen between his long fingers, his eyes reaching up to meet mine

"If you can.." He began, his voice rough, yet low as he spoke for the first time "Start from the very beginning.."

I began to chew my bottom lip, knowing this time, unlike in the hospital, I would have to recount every single minuscule detail. I wasn't sure I was prepared to speak of them without having some form of mental breakdown. I had tried so desperately to forget, to remove the images from my head, and now I had needed to force every inch of them to the surface.

"I.." I stumbled, my fingers toying with the edges of my books "I needed groceries, so I left my place around 8, got to the store around.. 8:15 I would say" I began as Dawson began scrawling down my every word "Everything was fine when I entered, Tony.." Even speaking his name out loud hurt "Tony and I, we spoke briefly about my studies and my dad.. and then I grabbed a basket and began to do my shopping"

That had been the easy part.

With Dawson's eyes careful on my face, he urged me to continue into the gritty details the night my friend had been shot during a violent robbery. I cringed and felt my muscles ache when I recounted the moments that had occurred. When I spoke of the gun hitting my head, my body falling to the ground, it was as though those injuries to me were happening all over again. My forehead was burning, my legs like jelly beneath the table, my voice was beginning to shake and my palms sweat.

Half an hour later, a knock sounded on the door, Isaia - who had perched himself beside it on the arm of the couch - stood to allow the noise entry. A man in sneakers, jeans and a football supporter jersey entered, instantly I noticed the notepad and pencils tucked under his left arm.

"Jasmine, this is Noah, he's our sketch artist, do you think you're ready?"

I slowly nodded as Noah moved beside Dawson, setting his notepad, a book and multiple pack shades of pencils up.

"Do you drink coffee Jasmine?" Isaia asked me

My body felt heavy and weak, so I nodded. I needed the energy, the boost. I could already feel how tired my eyes were, and it wasn't even midday. It was going to be a long day, I could feel it in my achy bones

"I'll be back" He smiled before leaving the room

"Take your time, and if you remember something, but it changes, that's okay" Dawson told me, his hazel eyes on mine "Be specific, but don't be worried if you can't remember, if you want a break, just let me know, okay?"

I nodded, feeling somewhat comforted in his tone, his eyes, focusing on the green and brown colours mixed together a little more than I probably should have.

"Okay, so there were two of them?" Noah asked, gripping his light pencil

I nodded

"Let's start with whatever one you remember most of, what face shape would you say he had?"

I stared down at his blank piece of paper, squeezing my memory as it replayed the moment his hoodie fell. I told Noah exactly what I could recount of his features, round face, crooked nose, pointed chin, shortly trimmed brown hair and those eyes, those piercing blue eyes.

I shuddered, my muscles tensing.

"Jasmine" Dawson was calling my name, soft, but my eyes were on the sketch in front of Noah, his left fingers shading in the blue of the perpetrators eyes. I couldn't look away, they held me down, the face almost identical to what I remembered.

It wasn't until I felt warm touch on my arm that I snapped back into reality, my eyes shooting to Dawson who stared at me intently, his fingers on my skin.

"I'm.. I'm sorry I just.." I stumbled, shaking my head when Isaia re-entered the room

Dawson's hand retracted, steaming coffee placed in front of me on the table "Thank you" I told him, placing my hands over the cup, the warmth as comforting as Dawson's hand had briefly been.

"How are we going?" Isaia asked, leaning over Noah as Noah placed his pencil down with a sigh. Isaia held narrow eyes on the face, attempting to recognise it before Noah turned it to my direction

"Any changes you'd like to make?" He asked me as I looked in between the 3 men and the portrait, afraid if I stared too deeply it would once again take me back. I didn't need to stare, I didn't need a longing look, I knew, I knew it was how I remembered the man.

"One down, one to go, right?" I sighed, pushing the paper back towards them

"One down, one to go" Noah nodded, handing the first photo to Isaia, setting himself up for the second.

The second portrait had been easier than the first, the more I willed myself to remember, the more I genuinely did remember. The men were extremely similar, yet I could see the small differences between them. Isaia remained in his place on the arm of the couch, sipping is own coffee while Noah and I worked together to add as much particular features we could. He was a fantastic artist, intricate, he knew exactly how to draw what I was describing, even when I struggled to describe it.

With what had only been 15 minutes, the second man had been complete. When placed together in Isaia's hands facing me, I winced.

"That's them" I nodded, quickly looking back down to my hands

"Well done Jasmine, you've done a very brave and admirable thing" Isaia told me with a small smile

I hadn't seen it that way. I just wanted to be right, for Tony, for his family, for their justice to prevail.

Isaia stood and opened the door, calling to another man to join him on the doorway. He held the two images toward the man, giving him firm instructions on what to next do with them.

I was curious, yet a small part of me didn't want to see the faces again, I didn't care what happened to the photos, as long as they caught the men for what they had done.

"I hope you recover quickly from this" Noah stole my attention as he packed his equipment away "I hate to say it, and despite the circumstances, it was great to work with you" He smiled, shaking my hand

"You too" I told him, impressed overall with his abilities, again, despite the circumstances

Noah squeezed past the two men in the doorway to make his exit, leaving Dawson opposite me concentrating on what Isaia and the man were discussing what to do with the photographs.

Picking at the edges of my books, I felt a vibrating sensation inside my pants pocket, my phone, ringing. I was unsure if I were allowed to use it, or answer it while within the police station, which I could think of no good reason I wouldn't be. Pulling it out, I glanced at the screen 'private caller'

I didn't get a lot of those, so I pressed green and pushed it against my ear, curious.

It was quiet, until breathing could be heard. A shiver ran through my body, my heart racing.

"Hello?" My voice slightly shook, my obvious hesitation catching Detective James' attention

And then the voice on the other end spoke "You snitch, you die"

I wasn't sure if they or I had hung up first, but I slammed the phone down on the table and forcibly pressed the red button. My heart now hammering inside my chest, fright taking over.

"Hey" Dawson leaned forward, reaching for my arm again "Are you okay, what was that?"