Atlas stared at the ankle monitor around his ankle, and sighed.
He couldn't believe this was happening to him. That even in his own home, he had become a criminal.
"Atlas? We have to continue from where we stopped yesterday."
He looked up, and saw his aunt staring at him. Waiting for her answer he wasn't even sure he could give her.
"You're asking me to reach for a memory I'm not sure exists," he said.
"Yet you insist you didn't kill the girl. Conviction? Or is it just a time wasting tactic?"
He reclined into the seat, and crossed his leg.
"You've known me all my life aunt. Correct?"
"Correct."
"You knew me when I dated Faiza."
"I did–but I'm not quite sure how that information is useful now," she said, her tone very much unsure.
"Was there any time you overheard anyone say anything about me cheating on Faiza?"
"I wouldn't kn–"
"You are free to ask the cousins. Your daughter too. It never happened."
