Beatrix gave Zillet and Airo a coy look. Her young brown eyes were screaming naivete, but the truth of her life was as bitter as a raw coffee bean. Her uneasiness was made conspicuous by her frequent eye movements as if she was searching for someone lurking somewhere. Watching her. Listening to whatever she was about to say. “Why am I here again?” she asked, although her eyes were averting the penetrating gaze of the two cops in front of her. “We just want to ask for additional information about Dean Castro’s case.” Zillet smiled at the teenager, whose pale face couldn’t be covered by the layers of foundation makeup she used. Her scarlet lip quivered at the mention of Castro’s name. “Can you tell us more about what really happened that night?” Airo urged her to speak in a calm tone, even though he was in a hurry to finish the session. He didn’t want to pressure a teenager who had had a traumatic experience. Beatrix scanned the police station one more time before speaking again. “C