<p><em>Detective Mia Torres pushed open the heavy door of the interrogation room, her heels clicking assertively against the cold, tiled floor. The room was stark and utilitarian, with a single table and two chairs under the harsh glare of fluorescent lights.</em></p> <p><em>She placed a file on the table, her expression unreadable. She began, her voice steady and authoritative,</em> &quot;let's talk about the night Jenna went missing. I don't think you need a reminder, but she is a prostitute, and witnesses saw you with her shortly before she disappeared,&quot; <em>she said, her tone firm but not accusatory.</em> &quot;You were the last person seen with her. Help me understand what happened.&quot;</p>