The detective eyed me wearily, his features twisted into a menacing frown. "Everyone in Hailsbury knows for a fact that you were supposed to give a ride to Becca Fields."

I sighed. He asked heaps of questions, but they all had the same meaning underneath. They all led to me killing Becca. "Hailsbury is a small town, Detective. Everyone knows everyone and everything."

He smiled smugly, almost as if this sentence was some kind of break through in the case. "Is that so."

I raised my hands, as if to say, Ah, duh. You live here right? You should sooo know.

"If that is so, then you killed Becca Fields. Because that is what everyone thinks."

"Oh. My. God! I didn't freaking kill Becca! I barely knew her!" I knew yelling at a police officer was probably a crappy idea, but seriously! I didn't kill her and as much as he needs to solve Becca's murder, asking me wasn't getting him anywhere. I knew her for one freaking day.

The detective seemed to sense my growing agitation. "You say you barely knew Becca. Why did you offer to give her a ride home?"

I went for the face that clearly said 'Why not?' though I actually said, "we became friends. You move into town, need to find a way to get to know people."

He leant back on his chair, look furious. "I know for a fact that Belle James was going to drive Becca home. Why would the motivated Becca Fields change her mind? Everyone who's met the girl knows she never does anything without a very good reason."

It was true. With Becca, even a simple car trip was calculated. Her friends, her enemies, the nobodies, the people worth her time. I could still remember the fine details of the morning I met Becca. The one time in the bride period of time I'd known her, that she hadn't been so calculating. Three days ago.

I was down in the town shops, where I'd just began to realise that in Hailsbury, everyone knew everyone, and an unfamiliar face didn't stay unfamiliar for long. The cold winter streets had forced me to wear a thick, woollen coat, and a layer of snow covered the streets.

"New in town?" I'd turned to see a short blonde girl, in a tight spaghetti-strapped blue dress that ended at her knees. I had wondered how the girl wasn't an ice sculpture, because I was freezing in a coat, and she was dressed for a summer in the tropics. She was completely perfect, even in the wind, not even a hair was out of place, whereas mine was whipping around my face like a contained tornado. Her styled blonde hair hung in waves over her shoulders, and her piecing blue eyes sparkled like her silver high-heeled shoes. She pulled off the look so that it seemed casual, I knew if I tried to replicate the style, I would seem much too formal.

I'd smiled at her. "Yeah, I moved in yesterday. Thought I'd take a look around."

She'd smiled back, and I was surprised to realise that I wanted to actually talk to her. I usually avoided the popular ms perfect girls. They were too cliché for my liking.

"Only way to truly know your way around Hailsbury is to know everyone and everything. Otherwise you're an outsider, and people will treat you that way. I can show you, if you'd like?"

"You aren't treating me that way," I'd pointed out.

She'd grinned secretively, examining a perfectly manicured nail. "I'm a little bit different to everyone else here."

I shook my head, breaking myself out of my reverie. "Becca wasn't always like that, Detective."

His face gave away nothing, but I could see his hazel eyes harden. "Yes, she was. Becca was always like that."

"I'm not so sure of that." I really wanted to believe that Becca had secretly hidden away some kindness in her. I liked to believe that I had good character judgement, and avoided the truly awful girl.

I don't know exactly why I had picked the worst of them all.

"What do you know, Jessamine? You have barely been here. How well did you really know Becca?" His face was murderous, and I wasn't so sure of this was so much of a police investigation anymore.

"Not well at all. But I believe she had kindness hidden somewhere," I said, defiantly.

"You're wrong," he said, angrily. "But you may go. You are still a suspect, Jessamine, but you're innocent until proven guilty."

"Thank you." I rose from my chair, turning towards the door swiftly, kicking my chair in. Probably stupid, but I was
pretty sure I'd already passed stupid and moved to express pass to jail.

As I opened the door, I added, "Sort of." Then I slammed the door as hard as I could.