Whipping my face, the warm breeze is running at full force towards my face.

Everything is blurry lines as I bolt out of my ancient house in the middle of the Italian countryside.

A text from the witness saying that she knows who killed her sister was not on my holiday to do list.

Swear beads racing against each other down the back of my neck, hair fighting the air resistance that I’m creating from running so fast, the heat of the Italian summer pouring all over my body.

I needed to run.

_Shit_

I don’t know if this message is true, but one thing is that this could be the answer to this case.

I could’ve just uncovered the biggest mystery of my career, now, in the middle of a field in Florence.

My head is exploding with all of these unanswered questions.

_How? _

_Why did she only tell me now? _

_Was she scared of saying in court? _

_Is she joking? _

_Why would she joke though? _

I feel like someone just planted a grenade in the middle of my thoughts, and I’m trying to get a grip on how to fix it.

My phone is in my back pocket, containing information that can make a case, I’ve been on for months, working long hours and still finding nothing, this information could solve this case.

I’m still running, my legs are starting to feel numb. My breathing is laboured, for once in my life, I. Don’t. Know. What. To. Do.

A vibration alerts me. My phone.

I quickly sober up, and retrieve my phone carefully, like a ticking bomb.

_It’s her _

_She might finally tell me who it was. Who killed her sister. _

I click on the message, heart rate spiking.

_Breathe _

_Okay _

_Breathe. _

_She might say one of the suspects, _

_This might just be over. _

_I_t pops up on my screen_. _

_What. What. What. _

_No. _

_No_

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I can’t breathe __

_W-h-what-how _

_I can’t process this _

_It’s can’t be, _

_No way _

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_My wife. _

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