The cop opens the door to let me out. I can't help but feel my fear wash over me. A killer, in Westchester? Why would they come here? I can't imagine the reason. I follow the officers lead into the station, the glass doors slide open and an officer scans me for metal.

"Geez. You guys ain't playin'' I say.

"It's our town, our duty and our responsibility. Of course we are." The officer laughs light heartedly.

"Well, fair but I'm only thirteen." I say.

"We've encountered roughspun kids before." The officer explains.

"Makes sense." I say.

They lead me to a waiting bench and I can see Janine enter the station just after I take my seat. I sigh. I wish I could talk to her so time would go by faster.

Every ticking second is announced by the hung analog clocks around the station. They sound harmonic nearly. The officers of the station seem a bit under duress. One goes and takes Janines chest. It seems like we may have been better off just doing this in Janines basement, where she found the thing.

Hours go by. It feels endless. Cops talk to one another. They go in and out of the station. New arrests are coming in and old ones are being told what to do next. Even some people are here to fight a parking ticket. The chief steps out for a moment to assure that is a city hall matter.

I can't imagine how much stress the police go through. Westchester is not a big city, but we see a lot of traveller's, being the main way between Charleston and London. The area is full of forests and mountainous terrains we can't build roads by or on, even if we wanted to.

I see Janine be taken away to another room. I guess that means we are in line with the people who witnessed the library incident. I assume it is formalities, now that I have my head in place. Feels like hours continue before the officers face appears with their voice.

"Kid, this is gonna be a long talk." He says to me.

"Why?" I ask.

"Seems your friend has some interesting stuff in the chest yall found. Surprisingly related to the killer we shot down in the library today." He admits. "This way, I have many questions." He says as he leads me by the shoulder to a separated room.

A mirror hangs on the dark grey wall. I have seen too many cop shows to know it's not a real mirror, but a one way mirror. The idea is so they can see me, without them being seen. It never really seems to matter when they use this tactic. I mean, when you watch enough crime shows, you should know that more than less, interrogation rooms have those mirrors.

"Son, state your name for the audio recording." He says.

"Anthony Rogers." I say.

"Your age?"

"Thirteen."

"What year is it?"

"Two thousand six." I say.

"Month?"

"August."

"What grade are you heading into?"

"This doesn't seem to be relevant to why you have me here." I sigh.

"Just, answer the last few questions and we can get started with the statement." He huffs. "It's protocols."

"Fine. I start grade nine at Westchester secondary on September seventh." I roll my eyes.

"Did you know Janine is your cousin?" He asks.

"Wait, What?!" I slam my hand onto the table in utter disbelief.

"She is your cousin." He repeats.

"So, how is that possible?" I ask.

"Kid, remember the Cherisé Rickards case?" He asks.

"That happened when my dad was a child." I reply.

"Her father, is your grandfather, along as with Janine's grandfather." He says. "The family tree information lines up and the adoption records are there to prove it." He adds.

"So, why does this need to be known now?" I ask.

"Cherisé was accused of being a witch in those days. Your father and hers were adopted out, as they didn't have the gifts Cherisé had. However, that's where our killer comes in." He says.

"The killer wanted to end the bloodline?" I ask.

"We believe it to be the case. Both of your fathers are on the way to the station so we can keep a close eye on the living Rickards decendants." He explains.

"So what is the big deal about the chest?" I ask.

"We were seeing if this was a plant by the killer. It's strange you guys were at the wrong place right as he was, as he was potentially hunting all four of you living decendants." The officer says.

"So, I actually don't know too much about this stuff." I say.

"I'm going to have your father explain it." He replies to me.

"Right."

"You know, it's fortunate you got out before something went south." He says.

"Whoever pulled the fire bell was the reason." I say.

"Well, that fireball may be the reason you sit here breathing." He smirks. "Talk about luck of the draw."

"I guess." I sigh.

The officer leaves the room for a bit. I can't place how long but I know to me it feels like time isn't even moving. All I can think about is why we didn't know Cherisé was our aunt. It makes sense on why we are so close. Realizing the truth about her, I can't possibly date her now. I hit my head off of the table when I slump.

"Whyd she of all people have to be my cousin..." I utter as my face is half mashed into the table.

I feel such a frustration raising in me. Why would my dad be keeping secrets from me? Why is Janine not told either? Yet, the killer would know. This is not good.

I shift again in my chair. The heat in the room is beginning to bother me. I can feel my sweat pooling up on my forehead.

The officer returns with a cup of coffee. He looks at me and sighs. He rubs his forehead.

"So, what all do you know about your aunt Cherisé?" He asks.

"Just that she had a journal and some wait newspaper talking about a killer." I admit.

"Well, that's fascinating, because the paper that you guys seen, was of her own conviction." He says.

"So?"

"You kids, I swear." He sighs. "Look, it's weird because she could not have put that newspaper there." He explains.

"Okay, so who would have?" I ask.

"That's just it, there is only two sets of prints on all of the chests items. You and Janine. Those are the only present, so we were hoping you two knew something." He sighs.

"That being said, can I go home now?" I ask.

"No, we actually want you, Janine, Charles and Daegwood to sit with you. We need to know more about Cherisé." He says.

"What for?"

"We believe her to be alive." He says flat.

His face is near gray. He almost seems as if he is dealing with a ghost. She was executed wasn't she? I have the urge to ask and I don't want to fight it.

"So wasn't she executed after conviction?" I ask him.

"Yes. But, recent events are in her tendency, even though the murder victim details have never been fully made available to the public. Hell, they probably wouldn't believe it even if we did." He says.

"Oh?"

"I've said too much. We are awaiting your and Janine's fathers. When they arrive we will continue with the investigation. Can I get you something while you wait?" He asks.

"How bout a coffee?"

"Sugar and milk?"

"Twinned."

"Simple kid." He says with a smile.

"Got any muffins?" I ask.

"Uh, we may be able to find something to eat around for ya." He says.

He turns away to leave the room. I wait for what seems like only a few minutes before he's back with a couple cups of takeout coffee and a box of donuts, along with two chocolate chip muffins He slides to me.

"I take it you didn't eat yet either." He says.

"I hadn't." I admit.

It sinks in. He is trying to befriend me for trust. Maybe he thinks I know more than I do, I can't tell for sure.

"Me either. Sometimes I get rushed in the mornings." He speaks to me and follows it up with a sip of his coffee.

"Fair enough. I was just excited to see the possibility of a witch." I say.

"That's why you guys went through the chest?" He asks.

"Well yeah." I admit.

He seems rather stunned at the moment. He takes a breath. I grab a muffin and sip at my coffee. He watches me like an owl does mice. I feel like he is trying to analyze me and I can't help but be transparent. I wouldn't want to lie to the law.

"Have you heard of the legend of the animagus?" He asks me.