“Get him out of here.”

Caleb’s mouth tasted like metal despite how dry it had become over the course of time it took for him to walk up to his silver haired best friend who fell down on his knees on the pavement, crying and shaking uncontrollably. His two other friends remained frozen in their spot with eyes wide open in bewilderment.  

“I said get him out of here damn it!”

“Caleb, we can’t just–“

“I don’t care, Theo. Get Leo out of here now.”

Caleb couldn’t bring himself to glance down on the bruised and bloodied boy resting against his side, whose arm he frantically threw around his own shoulder in a panic to help the boy get back on his feet.

Leo.

How in the world did he get himself into this situation? Caleb never took how jumpy and paranoid his best friend had been acting as any indication that something truly terrible was up; he’d always just assumed that it had been Leo’s meds working.

Leo’s head stirred, a low groan escaping from his lips as he tried to stand on his own. This caused both him and Caleb to stumble forward and lose their balance, only to be caught by Alec, who despite being the youngest and the most easily frightened had a determined look on his face. “But the police…” The blonde boy trailed off, bowing ever so slightly to carry Leo’s weight on his shoulders. “What are you going to do, Caleb? You can’t lie to the authorities.”

“Why don’t you let me worry about that instead?” Caleb snapped. The words coming out of his mouth sounded foreign to him, as if it were coming from someone else and English wasn’t his native tongue. He wasn’t quite sure what he was doing or what he was planning to do; he hadn’t really given his actions much thought before he executed them. He didn’t even care about all the blood staining his clothes. He just let his instincts take over the moment Leo collapsed, because he knew then that the silver haired boy needed to be protected, and if the other two boys felt the same way, then arguing about it would only be wasting time.

The older boy, Theo, opened his mouth to speak and tell Caleb off for thinking he could act so foolishly, but Leo cut him off. “Caleb,” Leo groaned, obviously struggling to make out his words. “Please…”

Caleb took in sharp breaths as he met Theo’s eyes. It was clear in the older boy’s sudden change of stance that he finally felt and understood the desperation in Caleb’s actions. Theo hated him for it; Caleb was like his younger brother. Why was the dumb boy so willingly putting himself in trouble? Theo’s had his fair share of dealings with the authorities, none of which were ever pleasant. None of this was Caleb’s fault, so why can’t he just let Leo learn his own damn lesson?

Leo’s free hand gripped Theo’s shirt tightly as he attempted to balance himself enough to get back on his own two feet, sending Alec teetering off to one side. Theo broke his gaze from Caleb to glance down at the silver haired boy whose bloodshot eyes struggled to keep open.

“Go,” Caleb ordered, swallowing the lump forming in his throat. “Get out of here.”

And with that, Theo threw Leo’s other arm around his shoulder and ran off to his car with Alec, glancing back and seeing Caleb for what would be – quite possibly – the last time he’d ever see him.

Caleb was seated in an interrogation room at the precinct with his hands cuffed to the table, one bright fluorescent light bulb hanging above him. Four plain white walls enclosed him, one of which had a rectangular one-way mirror to his left. He felt like he was in some kind of CSI episode; he’s seen enough to know where things were headed.

Leaning over the table to reach his hands, the young boy pinched the bridge of his nose with eyes closed, hoping that the pressure point would soothe his pounding headache.

It didn’t.

“Mr. Campbell?”

Caleb’s eyes fluttered open as he glanced up at the man standing before him – an act he regretted no sooner than later. The sudden flash of light momentarily blinded him. He blinked repeatedly, allowing his eyes to adjust to the brightness.

“How are you feeling?”

The man, who now occupied the seat in front of Caleb, introduced himself as Detective Clarke. He was a man in his late forties with stubble dotting all over his face, a pointed nose, and green eyes that sometimes looked blue. He looked tired; the creases around his eyes gave it away. But somehow, he still managed to look intimidating.

 Caleb’s mouth felt dry as his eyes finally focused on his blood stained hands. He’s been sitting in the room for over an hour now; the authorities hadn’t even given him the time to clean himself off. He reeked of three things – blood, sweat, and mud.

His mind flashed back to the night’s earlier events, but he couldn’t quite put two and two together. Everything was a hazy blur and came to him in bits and pieces, like a puzzle you had to solve by scavenging and picking your brain for its parts. Caleb was convinced that if he tried hard enough, he could remember everything, but he wasn’t quite sure he wanted to. Knowing that your best friend just killed someone is a burden to carry; knowing exactly how he did it is another story.

Tension hung in the air. To say that Caleb was terrified would be an understatement. He couldn’t even find it in him to speak.

Detective Clarke handed him a bottle of water, which he gratefully took with his shaking hands and uncapped. Caleb downed it in one swig; droplets of warm liquid wet his chapped lips as he set the bottle back down on the table.

Caleb couldn’t bring himself to look up at the man sitting on the other side of the table, even if he sensed that he was being watched closely. He had a feeling he already knew what the expression in Detective Clarke’s eyes would be anyway – unyielding coldness, lest the man settled for a poker face. The young boy felt ridiculous almost instantly. Why did it ever cross his mind that covering up for someone else’s crime would be a good idea? It seemed that every time he tried to do right by someone, he ended up messing things up for himself.

After what felt like years of endless silence, Detective Clarke finally spoke up again.

“What were you doing in an alleyway at such an ungodly hour?”

Caleb couldn’t speak, even if he tried. A quick glance at the clock hanging over the one-way mirror read the time: 4:48 AM. He grimaced; it’s been at least five hours since he promised to be home. His older sister, Natalie, would probably be pacing back and forth in their living room by now, worried beyond measure as she busied herself by trying to call him and his friends non-stop to ask about his whereabouts.

As much as he wanted her to know that he was fine, he knew that she would have to wait. He couldn’t pick up his own phone anyway; the police confiscated it. So instead, he hoped his friends knew well enough to ignore her calls. If anyone were to explain anything to Natalie, Caleb wanted to be the person to do so. His friends would probably just come up with a lie and make things worse anyway. Caleb couldn’t quite count on them this time.

Detective Clarke cleared his throat. “I’m trying to help you here, Caleb. Help me help you.”

Again, Caleb couldn’t respond. The rational side of him urged him to answer, damn it. But his stubbornness, mixed with fear and concern for his best friend overpowered every sensible thought in his brain. So he sat there, uttering not a single word.

“Let me try again.” Detective Clarke pressed his index fingers together over his lips. “You were in the alleyway earlier this night, am I right?”

Caleb merely blinked at him. For a detective, he thought, you’re pretty daft.

The detective, on the other hand, took Caleb’s silence as a yes and pressed on. He asked, “Why?” But because it was slowly becoming a ‘thing’ – a ‘given’ between them, his questions were yet again met with silence.

The whole situation was frustrating for both of them. One, because the detective needed answers to solve the case; and two, because Caleb couldn’t even speak to defend himself and prove that he was innocent… even if he knew deep down inside that he could be considered as an accomplice.

Caleb wanted to tell the truth; my God, he really did. He was so terrified that it felt like the only other option he had to save himself, but when the image of his Leo’s pale body all limp, bruised, and bloodied came to his mind once more, he chickened out.

Caleb already knew that he wouldn’t be able to live with the guilt should he decide to rat his friend out and send him to jail, but then again, Leo wouldn’t be able to live in jail either. Flashes of events from earlier on flooded his memory, and the young boy sitting in the interrogation room found himself torn between his loyalty and doing what was right. It was in that moment that he realized that he had to make a decision. Who was worth saving more – his best friend or himself?

Detective Clark crossed his arms over his chest. “Fine,” He grumbled. “Let’s take a different approach. Do – did you know the man who was killed tonight?”

Having made his choice, Caleb shook his head. A voice in his brain told him that he would regret his decision later on, but he bit the inside of his cheeks and ignored it; all sense and sensibility that he possessed had now been thrown out the window.

Detective Clarke tilted his head sideways. “How were you able to come across the scene then?”

Again, Caleb was silent. He wasn’t exactly sure how he was going to go about lying to the authorities just yet; he still hasn’t come up with a believable story to tell. Plus, he was a little taken aback by how indiscreet the detective was being. Most of the detectives featured in the crime series his sister loved watching tended to be subtle; it was their way of coaxing the answers out of the suspects or whoever was being questioned.

But then again, that was Hollywood. They tended to do things differently over there.

Detective Clark pulled out a manila folder from his briefcase and began to review it. After a while, he let out a sigh. Caleb felt sorry that he was giving the man a hard time; he just couldn’t help himself. He had a best friend to protect.

“You’re our only lead, Caleb.” Detective Clarke managed, sounding almost as if he were pleading for answers. “I’d like to believe you didn’t just kill an innocent man, but right now, you’re our only suspect and–“

Wait, what? Caleb’s eyes widened as he cut the older man off. “I didn’t do it,” He said monotonously. He couldn’t even recognize his own voice after being silent for what felt like ages; it sounded as if he was hearing someone else speak. He trembled in his seat. Was he really being accused of a crime he didn’t commit? Could his night get any worse?

Detective Clarke sighed. “We can’t just go by on your word and your word alone.”

Caleb swallowed the lump in his throat. Then what do you want from me? He thought. Answers? An entire recap of what went down? I already told the cops what little I could remember before they shoved me in here!

And he did tell – he told the cops as soon as they found him that he was on his way home when he came across a lifeless body lying on the ground with a pool of crimson blood surrounding it and nothing more. He shook his head when they asked if he saw who did it, and again when they asked if he was with anyone else.

It took him the entire ten minutes as his friends fled the scene to come up with that lie, and another to call the authorities; he could repeat it now, but something told him that Detective Clarke wouldn’t be fooled as easily and won’t rest nor feel contented until he uncovered the truth.

“I–I was…” Caleb stuttered, racking his brain for an excuse. Detective Clarke raised an eyebrow, pressuring the younger boy and giving him no other choice but to repeat his lie from earlier on. “I was on my way back home… I had to pass by the alley… and–and I saw it… him… he was dead already…”

Caleb spoke in between pauses of heavy breathing as he tried to find the right words to say. One mistake and the entire lie could fall apart; he had to watch himself, otherwise he’d stumble.

Detective Clarke nodded as if to tell him to go on.

“I panicked. I hid behind a dumpster… in case the killer was still there.” Caleb’s voice was trembling. In fact, everything about him was.

“I didn’t know what to do…” He trailed off. “I was terrified.”

That wasn’t exactly a lie. Caleb did hide, and he was terrified. Everything that happened – the yelling, the beating, the blood and the bruises – it all reminded him of a lot of things that happened back home in Australia that he’d rather forget. Thoughts of his past were just something he tried to avoid altogether though, regardless of what caused him to remember.

“Did you see who did it?” Detective Clarke asked.

Caleb shook his head a little too furiously, slightly giving himself away. The detective let him continue anyway.

“By the time… By the time I got up,” Caleb stammered. “He– The killer was long gone. I–I think he wasn’t even there anymore when I found the body.” 

Detective Clarke deemed the act suspicious. What kind of criminal doesn’t at least try to get rid of any evidence whatsoever? It was done so sloppily, the man thought to himself. A serial killer obviously would not have been the one to commit the crime. A teenage boy, on the other hand… Well, let’s just say that the chances were bigger. Shifting in his seat, Detective Clarke asked Caleb, “Then why do you have blood on your hands?”

Caleb glanced down on his hands, then his clothes. The blood had already dried, causing him to itch slightly. “I tried to see if he was okay. I thought… I thought maybe there was a chance he’d still be alive.” He mumbled quietly.

Detective Clarke raised an eyebrow. It was then that Caleb glanced up, finally meeting the detective’s eyes. Detective Clarke let out a sigh and leaned back on his seat. He said, “I don’t get you, kid.”

Caleb struggled to calm his heaving chest. Could the older man be seeing through him already? Was he that bad of a liar? Desperation was catching up with the young boy very quickly. “I’m telling you the truth, sir,” He croaked out. “Please…”

Detective Clarke shook his head. “You’re not telling me everything.”

“I am!”

The desperation was clawing at Caleb. He could feel it in his throat; it was coursing in his veins. It made his fingers to feel like they’ve been dipped in ice.

Detective Clarke clenched his jaw. “You saw the killer.”

Caleb froze.

“You did, didn’t you?”

Slowly, the young boy shook his head. Detective Clarke’s features contorted into an annoyed expression, telling Caleb that the man was done with beating around the bush. “Don’t play stubborn with me, young man.” The detective glared.

Caleb’s heart raced as memories flooded his brain.

The moonlight illuminating the sharp knife before it pierced through the man’s chest; Leo’s bruised and bloodied face, and the way he fell limply into Caleb’s arms; the sound of his own heartbeat ringing in his ears; the pool of blood on the ground; the lifeless body…

It reminded him of his past, as if tonight’s happenings correlated with it and remembering either one would trigger memories of the other as well.

“I swear…” Caleb managed.

“Do you have a reason to kill–“

Caleb's eyes widened. “I DIDN'T KILL ANYONE! I DIDN’T DO IT!” He cried out. He was frustrated, and everything that came out of Detective Clarke’s mouth seemed to just upset him even more. The detective, on the other hand, took the boy’s sudden outburst as progress. He pushed the topic further.

“Then who did?”

“I don’t know!” Caleb broke down into tears. “I don’t know, I don’t know, I don’t know…”

It was in that moment that Anna Webb strode into the room, her heels clicking on the cold, gray ceramic tiles, an angry expression etched on her face. Thick-framed glasses rested on the bridge of her nose. She dropped a heavy stack of manila folders filled with files in front of Detective Clarke before leaning her entire weight on the palm of her right hand that rested atop the table.

“Greg,” She started. Detective Clarke waved her off.

On the other end of the table, Caleb continued muttering to himself. “I didn’t do it, I didn’t do it, I didn’t do it,” He repeated endlessly. His shoulders shook uncontrollably as he tried to stop sobbing.

“Greg–“

“He won’t speak up,” The detective cut Anna off. “He’s making this hard for everyone.”

Anna shook her head in disbelief as she made her way to Caleb, getting on her knees and rubbing circles on his back soothingly. “Are you kidding me?” She scoffed. “This boy just witnessed a murder and you think he won’t be shaken up about it? Of course he can’t speak. He’s scared. He’s in too much of a shock to remember anything.”

Detective Clarke couldn’t believe how sympathetic Anna was being to the kid. With a stern expression, he said, “He saw a dead body. He said so himself that he didn’t see the crime itself being committed, nor did he lay his eyes on the criminal. I have to treat him like every other suspect–“

“I DIDN’T DO IT!” Caleb exclaimed.

Shaking her head once more, Anna gestured towards the door. “Let me handle this,” She said to Detective Clarke. The man slammed his palms against the cool steel table.

“Damn it, Anna,” He groaned. “I can’t afford to–“

“Let me handle this.” She responded through gritted teeth. Begrudgingly, the detective walked out of the room. 

“Caleb…”

The boy winced as he began to repeatedly yank his hands away from the center of the table where his handcuffs were chained, in hopes that it would break and release him. He didn’t know why he was even bothering; he knew it wouldn’t work.

“Caleb…” Anna cooed again, getting down on her knees and placing a hand on his arm gently to try and stop him from hurting himself. It only made him tug harder; the handcuffs left red marks around his wrist.

“I didn’t do it,” Caleb said angrily. “I didn’t do it, Anna, I swear I didn’t do it.”

The sound of the chain link and the handcuff hitting the steel table were painful to the ears. A frown found its way to Anna’s lips. For the first time in her life, she felt speechless. When Detective Clarke – known to her simply by his first name, Greg – told her that a young boy had called up to report a murder, she was mortified. She thought to herself, no one that young should witness such a horrible crime. It reminded her of the first time she saw someone die; she had to take two weeks off to get over the post-traumatic stress it had given her. She could only imagine what the young boy must be and will be going through.

And then Caleb stumbled into the precinct, hands cuffed behind his back, two cops holding either side of his arm. It was then that she felt like she was about to break down into tears for the first time in a long time.

Caleb lived right next door to Anna. She’s known him since he was fourteen and was the first person to welcome him and his sister to their apartment floor. She could remember spending almost all of her free days at their flat during the Campbell siblings’ first year in town, helping around with the house chores and the groceries. She even helped pick out the school in which Caleb would be enrolling.

 Anna did find herself wondering about what a nineteen and fourteen year old were doing alone so far away from their home country with no supervision, but both teens seemed to avoid talking about it too much. So instead, she took it upon herself to take care of them whenever she could. You could say that she became the motherly figure they so desperately needed in their lives.

“I didn’t do it…” Caleb’s softly murmured, snapping Anna back into reality. Her eyes focused on the sight of him with his head bowed, wrists cuffed, fingers intertwined with one another over the table. His hair was disheveled and his eyes bore a look of fear. “Anna, I swear…”

“I know,” Anna nodded. Caleb was a good kid; he always stayed out of trouble and she knew this. But her word alone would not suffice; they needed evidence of his innocence. Of all the teenagers in this town, why did it have to be Caleb? Anna thought to herself. If only she knew he was thinking of the same thing.

Caleb turned to look at her. When their eyes met, her face contorted into a pained expression. She said, “I know you didn’t do it, Caleb. But you have to help us figure this thing out.”

“I don’t know anything…” He lied.

Anna swallowed the lump forming in her throat. “You have to have seen something, right?”

Caleb shook his head.

Anna’s heart sank. Her eyes stung as it slowly began to well up with tears. She was usually a lot more professional than this, but it was hard for her not to let her emotions get in the way. Caleb was like her son, and seeing him so scared felt like millions of tiny daggers were stabbing her in the heart repeatedly and endlessly.

“Caleb, please…” She pleaded. “You’re our only lead.”

Caleb knew he would regret lying to Anna; the guilt was already eating him up alive before he even opened his mouth to speak. But he made a decision and he was sticking to it. That’s pretty much Caleb Campbell in a nutshell for you – stubbornly and very stupidly loyal to his best friends.

“I don’t… I don’t remember anything.”

Anna nodded, allowing a glimmer of hope to flash in her eyes. “Shock tends to do that to you,” She said as-a-matter-of-factly. “It’ll wear off.”

But honestly? Caleb didn’t want it to. He’d prefer to live his life blissfully unaware, but we can’t have everything we want in this life now, do we? “Anna…” He croaked out. His throat felt dry once again and talking too much strained it, but he went on anyway. He said, “Anna, I’m scared.”

And perhaps that was the first complete truth Caleb has admitted since he got there.

“I know you didn’t do it, Caleb,” Anna reaffirmed, her fingertips now tracing circles on his knuckles. “You couldn’t have. The man had bruises all over his skin. You couldn’t have hurt him without earning some battle scars of your own.”

Caleb gulped. He wondered whether or not his best friends got away safely. Thank God he was with Theo and Alec when a distressed Leo called him up, crying and begging for help. He wouldn’t have known what to do; he probably would’ve panicked and gotten both of them killed.

Squeezing his eyes shut, Caleb forced the memory away and decided to focus on happier thoughts to calm his nerves. He thought of the time he and Natalie drove two and a half hours away from the city to get to the beach, and how she let him drive for the first time on their way back. They had the windows rolled down and the cold, fresh air nipped at his cheeks as he sped off in the freeway, just a few kilometers per hour under the speed limit.

Caleb thought of all the good things in life that he had to thank for to keep his mind from wandering back to the happenings from earlier.

“I want to go home…” He mumbled with eyes still closed, a tear rolling down his cheek. Anna was quick to wipe it away with her thumb.

“Try to remember...” She begged. “Please.”

Caleb shook his head. “I don’t want to.”

“Caleb, please….”

Anna thought he was finally trying to remember important details of the crime when he shut up and knitted his eyebrows together, but he wasn’t. His mind was still busy listing down all his happier memories – all the pranks he and his best friends pulled on each other, the times they skipped class and hid in the bathroom to eat… his first date... catching her eyes for the first time and having her smile at him…

Her.

His eyes snapped open and his body went rigid.

“What’s wrong?” Anna asked. Caleb stared at his bloody hands and realized that when she gets wind of the story – which he was sure she would in a few hours – all chances he had with her would be ruined. But that is to say, if he had a chance with her to begin with. For all he knew, she probably could’ve always thought he was some kind of monster. What just happened would just cement it.

Relaxing his shoulders and leaning back into his seat, Caleb shook his head. “I can’t.” He declared. “I can’t do this.”

Anna’s eyes began to well up with tears again. “Your sister–“

“I know.” Caleb cut her off. He didn’t want to hear it.

“Try… Caleb. Please. Tell me everything you can remember.” Anna felt restless and desperate for answers. Why was he being so stubborn? She was only trying to help!

“I’ve already told the co–“

“Tell me, damn it!”

Caleb, having never heard Anna raise her voice before, squeezed his eyes shut once more and trembled in fear. He dreamed up an imaginary person and lied to her, saying that he may have caught a quick glimpse of the killer just as he ran off, but also that it was too dark to define any features. He was pretty much just bullshitting his way through it and was surprised that she was buying into it. Maybe it was because of the fact that she trusted him wholeheartedly. He felt awful for taking advantage of that.

Anna suggested for him to meet a sketch artist, but he insisted that it would be of no help; he reminded her that it was too dark for him to define any of the killer’s facial features. 

Just as she was about to open her mouth to speak again, Detective Clarke walked right back into the room, followed by a young cop with slanted eyes and a receding hairline. The two had been listening in on the conversation in the other room, on the other end of the one-way mirror. The cop dropped a new manila folder on the table and stared at Anna, who got up to her full height.

“What’s this?” She asked.

“One of the forensic scientists found fingerprints at the scene.” The cop said monotonously. The nameplate pinned to his uniform’s breast pocket informed Caleb that his name was Joseph – officer Joseph Nielsen. He looked young, like he was in his mid-twenties.

“And?”

Joseph glanced down at Caleb and nodded his head ever so slightly in his direction. “They don’t match his.”

Maybe Caleb should’ve felt relieved. He kind of was, to be honest, but only to an extent. What if they had records of Leo’s fingerprints? They could pinpoint him from anywhere if they did. But then again, it could've been anyone's fingerprints, right? It was a public place, for crying out loud; a lot of people could've left a mark or two there.

Caleb’s shoulders began to tense up once more, but relaxed the instant Joseph said the print was too smeared with blood to determine whose it was, but that one thing was for sure – it was definitely not Caleb’s.

Anna let out a sigh of relief.

“Does this mean I can go?” Caleb asked.

Detective Clarke shook his head. “Not so fast.”

“Greg–“ Anna began to protest, only to be cut off by the detective.

“We need him, Anna. He’s an asset. Something tells me this case is a lot bigger than we think it is. The guy killed tonight – he’s not as innocent as we thought he was. He’s been identified as one of the drug dealers connected to the mob. It’s more than just a random murder, Anna. I feel like this could be connected to M–“

“Again with your conspiracies!” Anna threw her hands up in the air in exasperation. “You’ve been so obsessed with that case. It’s been closed. It’s over. Get over it, Greg.”

“Anna–“

She squeezed her eyes and held up a hand to keep him from talking. Joseph and Caleb watched on in silence. “You almost lost your job the last time, Greg.”

“Listen to me–“

Anna shook her head. “Let Caleb go. He’s done nothing wrong.”

Detective Clarke’s face fell. “I can’t do that.”

Caleb’s face felt hot. “Why not?” He spat out. Didn’t he just hear what Joseph said? The fingerprints didn’t match his. He’d just been proven innocent. Why can’t he just go?

Detective Clarke sighed. He felt sorry for Caleb and he felt incredibly ashamed for being hard on him earlier. The kid reminded him so much of his daughter, what with being the same age as she was, and the fact that they went to the same school. He couldn’t help but picture his own daughter in Caleb’s position. It pained him.

“You said you caught a glimpse of the killer…” He stated.

Caleb’s eyebrows furrowed. Anna braced herself, already knowing what was to come. Oh poor Caleb, she thought. He’s just a child…

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Detective Clarke asked in a tone of irritation. “You said–“

Anna cleared her throat. Detective Clarke was obviously sidetracked due to his ego being hurt by the fact that his assistant was the one who successfully coaxed the information out of Caleb. He grimaced and shook his head, going back to his point. He said, “The killer – whoever it was – he or she could’ve seen you too. And I’m sure that by now, he or she knows you’ve gone to the police.”

Caleb bit his lip. “I don’t understand.”

“You’re an asset, Caleb.”

“I’m a what?”

Anna placed a hand on the young boy’s shoulder. “We need you to help us solve this case.”

“But I already told you everything I know!”

Detective Clarke shook his head. “Not everything. Bits and pieces will come back to you slowly. You’re still in a state of shock and–“

“I want to go home!”

Anna tightened her grip around Caleb’s shoulder. The young boy turned to look at her with an exasperated expression on his face. “Anna, I want to go home,” He said. “Please let me go home.”

She shook her head. “You can’t.”

“Why not?!” Caleb roared, getting up from his seat in anger, only to be restrained by the short chain link connected to his handcuffs, and then promptly pushed back down by Joseph. He couldn’t believe what he was wearing. Holding someone against their own will had to be illegal, right? Right?

“Caleb,” Detective Clarke sighed. “I’ve been given orders to put you into witness protection program.”