"Now you're accusing of impersonating the kidnapping victim. Do you have a problem?"
"Do you think our police made a mistake?"
"Isn't that the case?"
"OK, let apologize first." Luke shrugged, indifferent, "Now, let's talk about other matters.
You indeed never claid to be Sofia, but you had your accomplice replace Sofia's DNA profile data in the FBI database, making the police mistakenly believe you are Sofia.
With this, even if the police caught you, you could masquerade as the kidnapping victim from ten years ago, adding a layer of protection. Out of pity or coercive cri reasons, the jury would likely find you not guilty.
But now it's proven you're not the victim from ten years ago, this protection is gone, and you'll definitely be found guilty.
Kidnapping and altering the FBI database are serious cris, and you'll spend the first half of your life in prison.
Even if you get out of prison, you might already be a grey-haired old lady. Can you imagine yourself then?
Is this the life you want?"
Sofia trembled, her lips slightly parted, seemingly wanting to say sothing but couldn't.
Luke continued to persuade, "I know you have an accomplice, and I know he's with the FBI, but he can't help you now; he's also under investigation by the FBI's internal affairs.
I'm the only one who can help you now.
As long as you assist the police investigation, truthfully confess your cris, and are willing to identify your accomplice, I'll help you negotiate a favorable plea deal."
Sofia's eyes were red, trembling as she asked, "Can I trust you?"
"Of course, it's your only choice." Luke said with certainty.
Sofia was silent for a long ti, her lip biting until it left a mark, "My na is Irene Reagan, I haven't lost my mory...
But my mind is a ss, I don't know what to say..."
Luke said, "I'll ask, you answer."
Irene Reagan nodded slowly.
"Where are you from?"
"San Francisco."
"Do you have family?"
"I don't know, I haven't been ho in a long ti."
"Why didn't you go back?"
"My father died when I was very young, I have no impression of him at all.
My mother...
Changes boyfriends often, Uncle Logan, Uncle Delter, Uncle Colin...
Every year she'd have different boyfriends spending Christmas with her...
When I was fifteen, a man nad Julian started getting handsy with , I wanted to report it, but my mom stopped .
That night, I set fire to the house and left.
After that, the police never looked for , but I knew I could never go back to what was once called 'ho'."
"Why did you co to Los Angeles?"
"Hugo brought here."
"How did you et Hugo?"
"After leaving that ho, I wandered the streets for a long ti before being caught by a group of scumbags to sell into prostitution. I tried escaping but every ti I was caught back and beaten.
Later, I t Hugo, on this middle-aged man, I felt a sense of... security.
I wanted to be with him, begged him to take away.
Hugo agreed.
But those scumbags controlling didn't agree, so Hugo left.
Early the next morning, Hugo ca back, this ti with a gun. He directly finished off those scumbags and took away.
Because of this, we had to leave San Francisco."
Irene Reagan's tone was very calm, but what she described involved arson and murder. Though she spoke simply, Luke knew there was certainly an untold story behind it. Hugo wasn't stupid, how could he kill easily for a street woman.
Irene Reagan definitely played a critical role in this incident.
But now Hugo Joduri was dead, she could easily put all the bla on Hugo Joduri.
Luke didn't want to dig deeper because once digging deeper, Irene Reagan might not continue cooperating with the investigation, the basis for cooperation between the two would be gone.
Let the San Francisco police headache over the San Francisco case, Luke just wanted to figure out this kidnapping case now.
Luke continued to ask, "After arriving in Los Angeles, where did you live? What did you do?"
"We lived in the Sangla community, number 108.
Eventually, we ran out of money...
That bastard Hugo made go back to the street...
Yes, I went back to my old trade again.
It was then I realized my life hadn't changed at all; just the street from San Francisco changed to Los Angeles, and the pimp beca Hugo.
And what hurt most was Hugo's betrayal, I never thought he would do such a thing, I always thought he loved ...
I was very disappointed, extrely disappointed.
I even thought about committing suicide." Irene Reagan's eyes were red, tears slid down from her eyes, looking very pitiful.
Blackie handed her a pack of tissues, "Forget that bastard, he's already dead."
"I know, I'm just sad for myself."
Luke remained calm, not affected, continuing to ask, "What is the na of the mole in the FBI?"
"Creasy Hoskin."
That's right, the na matched. "How did you et him?"
"He's an unhappily married middle-aged man.
In his words, his wife gave all her patience to her patients, when she returned ho she was impatient with him and often critical.
Every ti he wanted to play cards with his wife, she was perfunctory, and it was always the sa position.
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