#89 “I Have Few Names in Mind.”

Alexander’s anxiety had reached its zenith as he grappled with the relentless barrage of adversity that seemed to envelop Sophia. Every turn of events, every new piece of evidence, conspired against her.

The swiftness with which the police had arrived at the crime scene, the damning circumstances surrounding the incident, all pointed to a sinister plot that aimed to frame her. He could not stand idly by and watch the woman he loved suffer under this mounting storm.

It was his secretary who had summoned him, urging him to watch the news. There was a sense of foreboding in her voice as she spoke over the phone, making it clear that the situation had escalated.

Alexander’s hands trembled slightly as he reached for the remote control and turned on the television. The news anchor’s voice echoed through the room, and the screen displayed the headline of the hour: “High-Profile Murder Case Unfolds in London.”

The news segment offered a chilling account of the previous night’s events. Dramatic music underlined the grim tone of the report, and images of the crime scene flashed across the screen.

A cluster of police cars and flashing sirens created a stark tableau of chaos and crime. The reporters painted a vivid picture of the police’s swift response to a murder at a high-end apartment in London, complete with the discovery of a lifeless body and a suspect being detained at the scene.

Alexander’s heart sank as he watched the footage, knowing full well who that detained suspect was. The story painted Sophia as a prominent figure, now ensnared in a criminal investigation. Her reputation was on the line, and the battle to clear her name seemed more formidable than ever.

With clenched fists, Alexander knew that he couldn’t simply stand by and watch Sophia’s life unravel on live television. Determination surged through him as he decided to take matters into his own hands. It was time to do whatever it took to unearth the truth and clear Sophia’s name, no matter how deep the conspiracy ran.

cast an unforgiving glow across the plain table, where her hands

the interrogation. “Miss Johnson, thank you for your cooperation. Let’s revisit the events of

“Of course, Detective. I’ll do my

grandfather’s former apartment with the promise of information about him, how she had been struck

scribbled down notes as she spoke, his partner, Detective Constable Turner, observing with a thoughtful expression. “Miss Johnson, can you remember any details about the person who lured you to the apartment? Anything that

on the street and called me by name, but did not introduce himself. I

She knew her situation was delicate, and the circumstances made

closely. “Miss Johnson, did you recognize

head, her voice unwavering. “No, I’m afraid not. I had never seen him before. I don’t know how

Inspector Harrison nodded at her responses. “You have no idea why this man might be related

“What about the apartment, you mentioned it was

apartment where these

grandfather. He might not have been the official tenant, but it was his property I checked before going there on the website

checked? Don’t you know your family

London to find out more about my grandfather,

is not what it once was. It’s been used as a drug den for some time now, frequented by addicts for drug use

remained unchanged, though her mind raced. She knew the importance of staying collected under scrutiny. “I can’t explain the current state of the apartment, but I assure you, my grandfather had no involvement

table in front of Sophia. “We also discovered this in the victim’s possession. Miss Johnson, this white powder has all the characteristics of an illegal narcotic.

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