That truth belonged to a world humans weren't meant to know, a line she couldn't cross no matter what.
So she hesitated.
Let the silence stretch.
Then, slowly, she lifted her eyes again, her expression unfocused, confused, and disoriented, like someone grasping for memories that refused to come.
"I… don't remember…" she murmured, the words soft, uncertain, as if even she wasn't sure whether to believe them.
The investigator exchanged a brief glance with his partner.
They had been keeping their questions open-ended, hoping she would fill in the gaps on her own. It was the safest approach when dealing with an unknown witness to let her talk, let her lead.
But that wasn't going to work.
From the look on her face, dazed, uncertain, and struggling even to form a coherent answer, it was clear she either couldn't remember… or wasn't going to say anything freely.
So they adjusted.
