East City First Prison. Vince Warren was brought into the visitation room by the guard.

As the door opened, he saw someone standing with their back turned. Short hair, slim build, standing straight. Not someone he recognized.

Hearing the sound, Elena Price turned around, gave a slight nod to the guard, then looked directly at Vince. "Mr. Warren, hello."

Vince sat down, eyes scanning the room. "Meeting here, is this the police or the prosecutor's office?"

"Does it matter?" Elena shot back.

Vince let out a sarcastic snort. "Can’t stand either of them."

"Why's that?" she asked, following his lead.

Vince raised his cuffed hands and gave them a little shake. "What do you think?"

"Let me introduce myself," Elena said, sliding a business card toward him. “I’m doing my graduate work in criminal psychology at East City Police Academy. My advisor’s running a study with the prison, collecting data samples.”

Vince reached out for the card, but Elena took it back before he could get it.

"Criminal psychology?" Vince raised his brows and pointed to himself. "Me? I’m the sample?"

"You could say that."

He let out a dry chuckle. "Killing? You get pissed off, you kill. Life pushes you to a corner, you kill. Love someone too deep, hate someone too hard—yeah, that too. What more psych do you need? Sounds like total bullshit to me."

"Those—anger, desperation, love and hate—those are exactly the things we call motives," Elena said calmly. "What we look into is where those motives come from. People get mad every day, doesn’t mean everyone grabs a knife."

She smiled a little. "Don’t you think so, Mr. Warren?"

Vince narrowed his eyes at her, half amused. “Plenty of death row folks in here. Why me?”

"We need lots of samples. You’re not exactly special, Mr. Warren."

She opened her notebook. "But hey, if you’re not up for this, I can talk to someone else."

Vince leaned back and paused before replying, "Well, since I’m here, might as well chat a bit. Would be a waste otherwise."

Elena shifted forward slightly. "Five years ago. East City. No. 346, Pingjiang Road. The Zhou family murders."

Vince glanced at her and shrugged, not bothered.

"You had no bad blood with the family. That day, you just went to clean the air conditioner. Got into a fight, killed the homeowner, panicked, and then killed his wife and kid too. Turned into a huge deal—the Pingjiang case..."

Elena kept her eyes locked on him. "I want to know—was your only reason for killing just because of what the victim said to you? Or was there more behind it?"

"When I did it, I wasn’t thinking that far ahead. Just got mad, and did it." Vince's face was unchanged, like he was playing back that day in his mind but feeling nothing at all."But there was one thing,"

Elena Price kept her eyes on him. "At the scene, on the youngest victim, the police found a small soap-carved cat. Does that cat mean something special to you?"

Vince Warren sat up straighter, eyes narrowing. "No."

"You're not being honest."

Elena shook her head slowly. "The cops found a box at your place, filled with similar cat carvings. Five victims, and only that kid had one on him."

Vince suddenly flared up, voice raised. "So what? I said no, so it's no!"

"I looked into it. That kid really liked cats, but his dad and sister were allergic, so he wasn’t allowed to keep one at home. The day everything happened, he brought home a stray, but the police never found it during the investigation."

Vince glared at her, pissed. "What, now I’m responsible for a missing cat too? It's got legs, doesn’t it? Maybe it just walked off!"

"So cats mean something to you. Maybe even enough to trigger the whole thing, right, Mr. Warren?"

His chest rose and fell sharply, and he let out a dry, angry chuckle. "Really? You think I killed for a cat? That's nuts."

Elena ignored the sarcasm. She pressed on, tone steady. "Back when I said you killed the family because of some fight, you didn’t object. But official reports say you were caught stealing, and that’s why you killed them."

"What's the difference?" Vince leaned forward, eyes bloodshot. "Dead is dead!"

"It matters."

Elena leaned back, still staring straight at him. "That theft claim? Just a cover. The real reason you snapped—it’s about the cat."

"Bullshit!" Vince slammed back in his chair and turned to the guard. "Officer! I’m done. Take me back!"

The guard hesitated, looking to Elena.

She lifted her hand slightly. "Sorry, can I get just a few more minutes?"

The guard looked a bit unsure but nodded. After all, she came with orders from Director Morgan. "Be quick, Officer Price. Not much time left."

Elena nodded.

And just then, Vince's expression shifted. He jumped to his feet. "You're a cop? You're not a student?!"

The guard rushed in and pushed him back into the chair.

"Had to tell a small lie so we could talk properly."

Elena offered a faint smile. "Now, let's talk about something else."

"I told you—I hate cops," Vince snapped. "I’m not saying another word."

"It's a personal thing," Elena said. "Like…the kind that catches you off guard."Vince Warren let out a cold laugh. “So I give you answers, and you surprise me? That how this works?”

“Today’s your birthday. I pulled a few strings with the prison—you’ll get an extra slice of cake with dinner,” Elena Price replied, voice calm.

His expression shifted, then stilled as he took a deep breath.

“Well, why the hell not? Might as well hear it.”

“Ask away,” Vince gritted out.

“Back to five years ago…” Elena began, “Before you did that clean-up job at the Wrights’, you worked at the neighbor’s place—some Lin family. After the Wrights, you were supposed to go up north, work at the Liu residence.”

He frowned, annoyed. “That was five years ago. How the hell am I supposed to remember some Lin or Liu family? What are you even getting at?”

“Three days after the Wright family was murdered, both Lin spouses turned up dead too.”

Vince blinked, then scoffed. “You seriously think I did that too? If it were me, the cops would've nailed me already. Anyway, I’m screwed either way, a few extra charges won’t matter to me.”

“I know you didn’t kill them,” Elena said evenly. “But I want to know—did anything weird happen while you were working there that day?”

“I was just there to fix stuff. Not like I had X-ray vision. If I didn’t do it, go find who did. Why are you wasting time with me?”

Vince stood up. “Officer, think I’m done here.”

“Are you sure, Mr. Warren?” Elena stood too. “That day, the lady of the house chatted with you for a bit, said you were efficient and asked if she could get your number for future gigs.”

Vince’s back stiffened. Slowly, he turned around. “Doing my job well is some kind of crime now?”

“You left her your contact info. She was surprised your handwriting was that nice. Got so happy, she gave you a pen as a thank-you.”

He shot her a frustrated look. “I told you—I don’t remember! How many ways do I have to say it?”

Elena took out a photo. “And in return, you gave her a little cat carving. She liked it a lot.”

Vince stared at the photo, visibly thrown off.

But after a while, he shrugged. “Look, officer, if someone offed them, go ask them, not me. I’m on death row, what do you want me to do—hunt the killer for you?”

The guard glanced at the clock. “Officer Price, your time’s up.”

“Okay.” Elena exhaled slowly. “Mr. Warren, if anything comes to mind, you can reach me through the prison system.”

Vince snorted. “I’ve got nothing for you.”

“Maybe not now,” she said softly, “but someday you might.”

Walking out of the prison, Elena looked up at the sky, let out a sigh, and shut her eyes against the blinding sun, trying to pull herself together.

Her phone rang just then. She glanced down, then answered, her tone leveling out. “Yes, Director Gavin, I can report in now.”