She—the girl—she'd dead?"
"I'm afraid so. Sir, we'd like bạn to come with us—to identify the—to make an identification."
He felt bile rise up in his throat, and his vision grew fuzzy. He could hear voices, but they seemed far away...the tips of his fingers felt cold, then numb.
He shook his head, shook off the shock, and looked up at the men seated before him.
"It…can't be her," he finally rasped, so low the officers almost missed it.
"Sir, if bạn could come with us—"
"It's not her!" Chandler screamed, and rose to his feet.
"Maybe it isn't" Officer Lewis replied, and stood, "but we need...
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