Chapter 85 It's Detective Rossi

Cassandra Valderrama POV

“What were you thinking?” Dad asks me. He doesn’t shout, doesn’t raise his voice. In fact, his tone is perfectly calm and level, like this is just any other run-of-the-mill conversation.

And that’s how I know he’s pissed.

I sit across from him on the living room couch, rubbing my hands together. They’re stained red with my brother’s blood. Somewhere upstairs, I can hear him groaning and wailing in pain. Aunt Natalya is with him, tending to his injuries. Nothing too serious, she told us. All he needs is a couple of stitches, some antibiotics, and some rest. The bullets had gone through and had hit nothing vital. But her prognosis does little to settle my fried nerves.

“Did you see the shooter?” Uncle Craig asks me. “Can you give us a description?”

I nod numbly. “He was an older guy. Thinning white hair. A mustache, very bushy brows. His eyes were blue, I think.”

“Did he say anything?” Uncle Montero presses on.

My response sits on the tip of my tongue, but I hes