A grand welcoming

Mel packed only the essentials, making sure to include all her criminology notes. She was uncertain when she would return, so she left everything else in a box that she entrusted to the guard's care.

"I thought you said you were leaving in two weeks," the guard taunted. "Or are you off to be with your boyfriend?"

Mel rolled her eyes at the guard's assumption. "No, Coya, it's just some family issues," she replied with a smile.

"No wonder your family didn't come," Coya remarked as she helped Mel carry the box to the storage area. "It seems like your family is messed up. Has your father taken a second wife and needs your approval or something?"

Mel turned to Coya and spoke through gritted teeth, "I've been informed that it's related to a country issue."

Despite feeling helpless due to her reliance on Coya's assistance, Mel couldn't help but feel annoyed at the guard's gossipy nature.

Coya closed the storage door and exclaimed, "Oops, how could I forget that Pacifica is making headlines for murdering its citizens."

As she turned around, she realized the girl had disappeared. "Hey, please stay safe in your own country," Coya called out, hoping the girl had heard her.

Mel tightly gripped her black suitcase as she dragged it towards the waiting cab that she had called earlier. She couldn't believe what Coya had said; the guard's careless remark had caught the attention of the passersby who had turned their heads toward her. Mel cursed under her breath, frustrated with Coya's insensitivity.

"Are you alright, Miss?" the cab driver asked, noticing Mel talking to herself.

"Of course, I'm not alright," Mel snapped as she placed her suitcase in the trunk and made her way to the back seat. "City International Airport, please," she ordered the driver, hoping to leave the country as soon as possible.

"Why did I even bother asking that? Of course, your country is just globally renowned," the cab driver quipped.

Mel rolled her eyes and muttered, "Oh joy, I seem to have stumbled upon the meeting place of all the mad people today."

The driver glanced at her through the mirror and asked, "Are you talking to me, Miss?"

Mel couldn't resist the opportunity and replied, "No, I was just wondering if you were one of the sane ones."

Their conversation ended abruptly as Mel noticed that they had arrived at the City packing ground.

As Mel was leaving the busy parking lot, the cab driver called out, "Don't forget to share our wonderful culture and traditions with your country's people!"

The brightly lit parking lot was bustling with night travelers, and Mel felt the weight of their curious gazes upon her. It was no surprise that her distinctive Pacifica features had garnered attention from the media and made her recognizable to many.

"Excuse me, Miss, have you downloaded your air ticket?" the woman at the counter asked when she noticed that Mel only had her passport out.

Realizing that she had been preoccupied the entire journey and forgotten to download her ticket, Mel groaned inwardly at the thought of having to pay an exorbitant fee to do so at the airport.

"How much does it cost to download it here?" she asked with a resigned sigh.

"It's just five bucks, Miss," the lady replied politely. "If you'd like you can download it at the cyber cafe on your left."

After a long and tiring journey that involved shuttling back and forth at the airport and waiting for what felt like an eternity, Mel finally boarded her flight.

She slept soundly for the entirety of her nine-hour flight and was only awoken by the gentle nudge of the air hostess as the plane began its descent.

As she approached the baggage claim area, she scanned the crowd for any sign of her brother, hoping her father had sent him.

With no other agenda, Mel started to roam around waiting for her father, it's not bad to tour the airport after all.

However, she was disappointed to find no one there. Just as she was about to give up, she felt a gentle tap on her shoulder and turned around to see who it was.

"Miss, this is a restricted crime zone. Why did you cross the danger signs?" The man's voice was muffled by his Pacifica special Intel uniform mask, and his towering build, around six feet tall, made him even more intimidating.

Mel stared at him for a few seconds, taking in his appearance before looking down at the ground.

The pavement was marked with stickers of footprints, leading to the spot where a dead body had been discovered. She realized she must have inadvertently entered the secluded crime zone without realizing it.

"Since you've left a mark in the restricted crime zone, we'll need to take you in for further questioning at the crime investigation unit," the masked officer stated firmly.

"What?! No... No, you can't do that. I didn't mean to cross into the restricted area, it was just a mistake. Please, I'm sorry," Mel protested, attempting to walk away. However, before she could take another step, more intel unit officers appeared and surrounded her, preventing her from leaving.

"We're sorry miss, but we have to follow protocol. You'll need to come with us," one of the officers said, grabbing her by the arm.

As Mel sat in the back of the suspect's car, the sirens blared loudly, warning citizens to move out of the way. She could hear people murmuring and pointing fingers at her as they passed by.

"I heard she was caught trying to tamper with evidence at the crime scene," one of them whispered with a look of disgust.

"So she's one of them," another person whispered, their face twisted with fear and suspicion.

Mel couldn't escape the feeling of cameras trained on her, capturing her from every angle possible. She could see journalists running alongside the speeding car, desperate to keep up and capture every detail of the unfolding story.

"What a grand welcoming," Mel exclaimed, her eyes widening as she was bombarded by a sea of cameras and flashing lights at the entrance of the crime investigation unit.

It appeared that the journalists had failed to keep up with the speeding car, but now they had caught up and were eager to capture every moment of the unfolding drama.

"Miss, can you confirm whether you're the serial killer?" one reporter shouted above the din, thrusting a microphone in Mel's face as the officers dragged her inside.

"What were you doing at the crime scene?" another reporter chimed in, towering over the rest of the journalists with his imposing height.

Mel felt a sense of panic rise within her as she tried to make sense of the rapid-fire questions. She knew she was innocent, but how could she convince them of that?