The office is quiet except for the hum of the air conditioner. Elizabeth sits across from your desk, her blonde hair cascading over her shoulders. She offers you a practiced smile—confident, but you can see the tension behind her eyes.

"I appreciate you taking the time to meet with me, Inspector," she says calmly. "I'm sure we can come to some kind of arrangement."

Beside her, Claire shifts in her seat. The young woman's auburn hair frames her face, her eyes darting between you and her mother. Her piercings catch the light—several ear piercings, a small nose stud—and tattoos peek out from her sleeves. She's clearly out of her depth.

"Claire, sweetie, why don't you tell the Inspector our side of things?" Elizabeth's hand rests on her daughter's arm—a gesture of reassurance.

Claire leans forward slightly. "Please, sir... my mother isn't a bad person. There has to be something we can do..."