Izza's funeral was held on a Saturday, in the month of September. Izza was missed terribly by her parents, Mr. and Mrs. Miller. Mrs. Miller was crying the whole time, and as I was standing in front of the coffin, Izza was being held into the ground.

Jacob was standing next to me, and this was our second funeral we had attended since Jacob and I lost our parents. I had a flashback of how we used to be a happy family.

Jacob and I were raised by good parents. Mr. and Mrs. Miller reminded me a lot about me and Jacob when we attended our parents funeral. I was the one crying the whole time.

I was only eighteen, still in college, and living my life, and one day my world turned upside down in split seconds.

I held Jacob's hand, and I was feeling like I was going to be sick. Izza was murdered, dumped into the river like she was trash. Izza didn't deserve to die the way she did.

I couldn't believe it when I heard that Izza had died. I was stunned. I had known Izza for a long time. Izza was always supportive of Jacob.

A funeral reception is a post-funeral gathering where friends and family members can come together to celebrate and remember the life of their loved one.

The reception typically follows immediately after the funeral service. It is relatively simple to plan a funeral reception.

It was Izza's funeral reception, and I was standing in front of one of Mr. and Mrs. Miller's picture frame collection hanging on the wall, and Izza and her mother and father, they all looked super happy.

Somehow I felt like I was responsible for Izza's death. I also felt responsible for Hannah being sent to die in prison.

How am I ever going to recover if I keep on blaming myself for other people's problems?

Izza's big sister, Marie, ages seventeen, a couple years older than Izza, walked up to me and explained to me how Izza used to always wanted to be a doctor.

I took a deep breath and sighed, and I started to feel sicker. This guilt was building up inside me, constantly making me want to vomit.

I excused Marie, and covered my mouth, going up the stairs and I ran to the bathroom. I leaned over the lavatory and started vomiting. I coughed twice, and continued vomiting on an empty stomach. I eventually stopped purging, and before I laid against the wall, feeling even more helpless, I flushed the lavatory.

Jacob came looking for me, and there were lots of people at the reception. Until Jacob came up the flight of stairs, and he went to check on me in the bathroom, as I was afraid people probably heard me getting sick.

"RYAN?!" Jacob shouted, and I heard Jacob calling me. I took a deep breath and sighed, and Jacob knocked on the bathroom door.

"I'll be out in a few minutes, Jake," I said.

"Are you okay?" Jacob asked, wondering.

"I am fine, Jacob. I'll meet you downstairs, okay?"

Jacob sighed, and marched away from the bathroom. I felt like I needed to let out a good cry. I felt like Jacob was responsible for Izza's death. It makes me selfish to think of Jacob as the possible suspect of Izza's murder.

A moment later, I had walked myself out of the bathroom, and Jacob was sitting down on the couch, in Mr. and Mrs. Miller's living room.

David was sitting next to Jacob, and I went downstairs and I asked Jacob how he was handling the whole situation.

Jacob just smiled after looking up at me, and I understood, shaking my head. I softly smiled at Jacob.

Mrs. Miller heard a knock on the door, and I saw Mrs. Miller answer the door.

"Can I help you?" Mrs. Miller asked, wondering.

There were two detectives standing in front of the door, Detective Sailor, and his partner Detective Evans were wondering if Jacob was here at the reception.

Mrs. Miller pointed out to Jacob and I, and Detective Sailor had taken out a pair of handcuffs out of his pocket, and everyone inside the house saw what was happening.

"Jacob Morgan, please turn around and put your hands behind your back," Detective Sailor said.

"What?" I asked, in confusion.

I just looked at Jacob.

"Put your hands behind your back please, Mr. Morgan,"

I chuckled, scoffing, "Why?"

"Please Ryan, don't make this any more difficult than it seems," Detective Sailor said.

"Ryan?" Jacob asked, wondering. Jacob began to feel scared.

"What is going on?" I asked.

Jacob was getting all worked up, frustrated and Detective Sailor rudely touched Jacob, crossed his arms and hands together behind his back.

"Jacob Morgan, you're under arrest for the murder of Izza Miller. You have the right to remain silent. Anything that you say can be used against you in a court of law." Jacob and Detective Sailor had marched their way out of Mr. and Mrs. Miller's house.

I was speechless. How come Jacob is being accused of being a criminal? I followed Detective Sailor, and Jacob, and I just watched my little brother being taken down to the police station.

I didn't know what was going on, until a click in my mind that Jacob is possibly committed for murder.

I sighed, and I immediately went for my car. I cranked up the engine and I followed the police car to the police station.

Jacob was brought into the interrogation room once again. Jacob didn't want to speak until I was in the room with him, since he explained to Detectives Sailor and Detective Evans that I was a lawyer.

In the interrogation room, I was sitting next to Jacob. Jacob seemed nervous, and I was trying to keep him calm.

Detective Sailor came inside the room with his partner, and I was making sure that Jacob was not going to get into trouble with the detectives. It was payback time, I was going to defend my own brother.

"Jacob, do you know why you're here?" Detective Sailor asked.

Jacob shrugged.

"You are here because you committed a crime," Detective Sailor said.

"What makes you think my brother is a suspect?" I asked.

Detective Sailor sighed, sitting down in his chair, "I think Jacob can tell you why," Detective Sailor explained.

I just looked at Jacob, Jacob was looking down, looking all scared and terrified.

"There was a knife located at the scene, and the DNA was proven that your fingerprints were a match to the murder weapon," Detective Sailor explained, pulling out the evidence bag.

"Can you explain to me what happened, Jacob?"

I was very shocked. I just looked at Jacob once again. Jacob was still startled.

"Jacob?" I asked, softly.

"I don't know, I don't know." Jacob said in frustration.

Detective Sailor had looked at Jacob weirdly, like he knew Jacob had a learning disability.

"Jake, it's okay, just answer the detective's questions," I said.

Jacob sighed.

Jacob looked at me, and I smiled. Jacob looked at Detective Sailor and Jacob explained to Detective Sailor he didn't kill Izza.

Detective Sailor sighed, I was trying to keep Jacob calm, he has a severe case of hyperactivity and autism.

"Is there something wrong with him?" Detective Sailor asked rudely.

"Jacob is autistic if that's what you mean?"

Detective Sailor sighed, he didn't like the way I replied to him, and Jacob was stating he wanted to go home.

"Not until you answer my questions, Jacob."

"No, I want to go home," Jacob was throwing a tantrum. I was doing my best to keep Jacob calm.

Detective Evans was being polite to Jacob. He was explaining to Jacob nicely that Jacob isn't into any trouble or anything, they just wanted to ask some questions.

"It's like taking a test, you know how a test asks questions and you answer them correctly?" Jacob shook his head, yes. I just smiled at him, realizing how much I love my autistic brother.

"Is it okay Jacob, if you can answer the questions honestly?" Detective Evans asked, smiling a little.

"Okay," Jacob said. I sighed, and then I stroked Jacobs' hair.

"Okay, that's good," Detective Evans said. I sighed, and I continued giving my support to Jacob.