“Alright, start from the beginning,” Special Agent Alec Rafferty
commanded as he pressed the record button on the audio device sitting on the
table. He took a seat across from a handcuffed Yvette and rolled a thin
toothpick around his lips, briefly pursing them in slight annoyance.
Yvette moved her arm and the sound of metal on metal echoed
in the small room as she adjusted the cuff around one wrist with a groan. It
was a nice break from the annoyingly ticking clock hanging above the door that
seemed to be five minutes too slow. “I didn’t kill the President.”














