<div style="text-align: justify;">The woman on the couch swallowed hard and nodded. It wasn't easy to repeat herself on that matter. Mike had been a great friend, giving her a job when things got tough at home, and teaching her patiently. And now... for some reason, someone had thought they needed to kill that nice man who wouldn't hurt a fly. Accepting the box of Kleenex, Jessica took a tissue and tried to calm down. It took her a while to find her voice again.<br/><br/>"I-I... I think so. He <span style="text-decoration: underline">seemed</span> dead". <span style="font-weight: bold"><span style="font-style: italic">Oh, my God</span></span>, her mind nearly screamed at her. The woman took a deep breath and closed her eyes, feeling her stomach turn. Only after she felt like she was not about to make a mess on the floor did she open her eyes again. An urge to laugh hit her, letting Jessica notice how close to hysteria she really was. Biting her lip hard, she waited for a moment to be sure of her ability to speak.<br/><br/>"I don't know what happened, I don't know who could want to do it...". With a few heavy breaths, and moving slowly to make sure the improvised bandage would stay in place, Jessica sat up. That small effort made her forehead bead with sweat, and she wiped it with a fresh Kleenex.<br/><br/>Only then did the woman resume her speech. "<span style="font-style: italic">Mrs.</span> Davidson", she replied quietly. "I... you are going to help me, right?". She pursed her lips for a moment, and then continued. "I'm afraid I'm not particularly... rich or anything, but I can pay for your services, I... guess...".</div>