"There," Benson points at Peter, "is my to-be son in law. And there," he points at me, "is his girlfriend. Those three are their little servants. Arrest them, officers."

Three officers approach us confidently with stern looks plastered on their faces.

"Explain yourselves." Officer Jones, reading from his badge, demands.

All five hurry to explain the situation. But Officer Jones lifts a finger. "One at a time."

"Sir," Jacob steps forward. "This may look a bit strange to you, but we have a perfectly good reason for it. I'm detective Jacob Faber by the way." He pulls out a business card from his breast pocket and hands it to the confused police. "You see, my parents are dead from that terrible train tragedy a while ago. The one that was everywhere on the news a couple of years ago. They say the murderer intended to kill them, but he is however unknown. But although the first part is true, the second part isn't."

Officer Jone's eyes bulge. "You mean-"

"We know who the killer is. We have evidence right here."

I glance over at Benson whose smirk has faded and is now turning white as a sheet. I smother back a laugh.

"And who is the murderer?" The officer next to Officer Jones inquires, fiddling with the recorder on his uniform until the familiar red blare flashes. I squint to see his badge that reads: Officer Corden.

Jacob grits his teeth and spits out, "the guy who reported us." He glares at Benson. "Benson Crows."

As all the police's stares avert from us, Benson shrinks back, scrambling for an excuse. Already judging from his expression, he knows he can't deny it.

"No. I-but-I..." He splutters with disbelief. "They broke in. They did illegal things too."

"But not as bad as killing people." I speak up, glaring at him piercingly. "You're a murderer, Benson Crows. A killer."

"I know what I am." He snaps, almost snarling. "Those people deserved their deaths. Those people bullied me. They bullied me!" He drops to the ground, tears forming in his blistering, red eyes. On his knees, he clutches the hem of the nearest officer's jacket. "Sir, it's excusable. This is excusable!" His body shakes as he sobs vigorously. Saliva forms at the corner of his mouth. Peter and I exchange a questioning look.

"Where's my aunt?" Jacob glowers down furiously at the hopelessly bawling man. "Where is she?"

At the mention of Isabelle, Benson stops crying. He wipes his grotty nose with the back of his hand, sniffling. "Izzie." He whispers. Next to me, Peter stiffens.

"Don't 'Izzie' my mother!" He roars so loudly that everyone, including the police, jumps. "Where is she? What did you do to her?"

"Your mother..." Benson shuts his eyes, reopening them to reveal the unguilty eyes of a killer. "Your mother is dead."

My hands automatically go to my mouth. Everything halts to a slow motion, the sound going almost completely mute. Not even Peter's terrible screams can block the uproar of silence that pierces my ears. All I can do is stand there on the footpath, frozen and unbreathing. I barely notice Peter's body landing on top of Benson's as they wrestle violently. The police all hurry to pull Peter off the murderer. While two hold down his struggles, the three others surround Benson whose nose is gushing out blood.

"You killed her!" Amy is shrieking, tears dripping down her flushed cheeks. "You murderer! You killed her!"

Jacob is yelling so fast I don't understand and Jonah is silent. In shock.

"You love her." I say finally. Everyone stops and looks at me. Peter's cheeks are wet with long trails.

"I did." I don't miss the past tense slipping into place which only increases my rage.

"Sure. You did." I say in the same, emotionless tone. Then before I know it. Before I can cool the sudden surge of adrenaline that kicks in, I'm punching the guy right in his mouth. I'm punching his face over and over and kicking his balled body repeatedly.

"You," I growl through my gritted teeth, "can die and go to hell. You can,"- I continue to hit him despite the polices' yells- "end your life right here."

"Should I?" He shoots me a mischievous, devilish smirk. "Should I end my life?"

"You-" I thrust my foot at his ribs and he doubles over coughing.

"MJ!" Peter bellows at the same time as when Officer Jones snaps, "young lady."

I stop, breathless, and turn reluctantly to them, raising my eyebrows.

"Calm down, MJ." Peter says, his voice shaking with emotion. "MJ, you have to..." He begins to cry, burying his face in his hands. His sobs are ragged and so broken that I soften and tentatively go to his side, wrapping my arms around him.

"Peter, I'm so sorry." I whisper, tears flooding out of my eyes. "I'm sorry."

Through my blurred vision, I see the hands of the officers brush across their eyes. Amy and Jacob are in an emotional embrace while even Jonah is sniffing quietly.

"My regrets to break this...uh...moment," Officer Corden hesitates slightly. "But we will be taking over the situation from here. If you could leave me a contact number?" He looks from Amy and Jacob to me and Peter.

"Of course." Jacob breaks away from his sister, stepping towards the officer. "Do you by any chance still have my business card I gave you?" He glances over at Officer Jones who nods. "Good, well, my number is on it. So contact me when you wish to reach us."

"Okay, thank you, Detective Faber. We will."

The last thing I see before we clamber back into the black van is Benson getting slammed onto the door of a police car while his hands are locked into handcuffs. Strangely enough, the pain clear on his face is enough for me to feel slightly better. Perhaps it's the surely very long sentence in jail ahead of him that helps. Yet, I frown deeply, that doesn't lift the pain of losing Isabelle. That doesn't bring her back.

Under my arms, Peter's body shakes as he cries.