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[right][code]Time: 9:30pm
Location: Cornell Police Department Interrogation Room[/code][/right][hr]

The overhead lights were way too bright to be comfortable. The chair hell on her back and ass. A full water bottle sat on the metal table in front of her. On the other of it was a two way mirror. She couldn't see the agents on the other side of it, but she knew they were there. They'd been there for an hour. About as long as she'd been trapped in this room. She sat with her arms crossed over her chest. Hadn't moved from that position or turned her dead eye stare away from the mirror in just as long.

She wasn't under arrest. They just brought her in for questioning. Her dumbass boyfriend, Jared, went running his mouth about his plans on some loser Discord server, and now he's booked and being investigated. She's part of that investigation given she stayed at his house more often than not. Surely, his girlfriend would know something. Surely, she would. They wouldn't be wrong for thinking so, but she wasn't about to go running her mouth. She'd be implicated too and like hell she's going to jail before she gets her revenge.

At the 9:30pm mark, a woman walked in. White button up, black slacks, badge on her hip, looked like every FBI agent she'd ever seen on TV. The girl didn't move a muscle. Only her eyes tracked her from the door. The woman was spicy white. Maybe white latina. Or some obscure eastern European. Her black hair was pulled back into a bun. Her wire framed glassed sat on her nose. She held herself like this was another day on the job. Like she got calls like this all the time. Given how many shooting were documented a year, probably.

"Saylor Moon, sixteen, interesting name." The woman pulled the chair across from her out and took a seat. She placed the file in her hand on the table. "I'm Agent Miranda Novak. I take it you know why you're here."

Saylor shrugged.

Agent Novak wasn't fazed. Like she expected that type of answer from a teenager like her. "Interesting outfit you got on. My mom used to wear bell bottoms. Didn't think they still sold those." She leaned over to get a better look at them. "Blue with stripes. Cute. Where'd you get them?"

Saylor shrugged again. A thrift find that made up one weird item in her eclectic closet. She did her best to match it with something when the cops forced her to come down to the station. They were gracious enough to let her change out of her basketball shorts and sleep shirt. She had an orange lace up tank top that matched, but that was about it. It clashed with her black leather jacket and her combat boots. She's no stranger to going outside looking like a fool. She wore what they could afford. Either that or indecent exposure.

Agent Novak opened the file. "Alright, so your boyfriend, Jared Con-"

[color=#7674e5]"Ex-boyfriend,"[/color] Saylor said.

"Ex already. Smart kid. So your [i]ex[/i]-boyfriend, Jared Connors, has been planning a school shooting for a few months now. Supposed to take place the week before graduation. What do you know about that?"

[color=#7674e5]"Nothing."[/color]

"Nothing?" She looked down at the file she had of Jared. "Says here you've been living with him for some time. At sixteen, that's a lot."

[color=#7674e5]"His parents have been living with him all his life. You ask them what they know?"[/color] She skirted around explaining why she was a somewhat live-in girlfriend at her age.

"Sure, but they aren't intimate with him like you are."

Saylor snorted. [color=#7674e5]"Are you asking about our sex life?"[/color]

"No." Agent Novak clasped her hands together and leaned forward, staring Saylor in the eyes. "I mean like sharing secrets, telling each other things no one else knows, emotional support. Intimate."

Saylor nodded. [color=#7674e5]"Well, he didn't tell me about this."[/color]

Agent Novak stared her down, and Saylor met her challenge. She didn't give anything away. Not in her face. Not in her eyes. Years of practice pretending she's okay after Ronnie beat her ass two ways to Sunday did that to a girl. The staring contest went long. Minutes ticked back. The second hand on the clock behind her [i]ticked, ticked, ticked[/i]. Unflinching, unblinking. Agent Novak was the first the crack. She didn't have the dry of a teenager with too much screen time. 

"I find it hard to believe." Agent Novak turned the file around to face her. There were pictures of the guns they practiced with in the forest behind the Connors's backyard. Along with pictures of the last target practice set up they had of glass bottles and painted targets on trees. One picture stuck out to her was of her and Jared, his brown floppy hair sweaty on his forehead. His arm around her shoulder, and her tucked into his side with his semi-automatic in his opposite hand and her borrowed pistol in hers. "You two seemed to know your way around guns. He teach you to shoot?"

[color=#7674e5]"He did, under his dad's supervision. We were never alone with the guns and at the end of every practice, Mr. Connors would lock them back up. If Jer knew the code, he didn't tell me about it."[/color]

"Right."

Saylor wished this would end already. She left the hour wait and the last thirty minutes of 'interrogation' weighing on her, but she didn't let it show. Can't let them believe they have the high ground, when they don't.