The sun was setting beautifully, and the soft orange colors were stunning from where Grace could see them. The gorgeous view shot right into the taxi, to which Grace gasped in amazement. Basil, however, couldn't care less about the view and focused more on the people outside. Driving past each one by one, he deduced which were married and which weren't, a foolish hobby some would say. But for a moment, the taxi drove past what seemed to be a bar right around the corner, a gay bar.

  Basil didn't think much of it until he looked at the entrance. At the entrance, two men stood outside. Upon examining their outfits, they appeared to be employees. One of them wore eyeliner and lashes, giving warm smiles to people walking in and leaving. The other man held a small basket of small pride flags, handing them out to people who left the bar.

  Then Basil's mind clicked, the pride flag, given to only those who left the bar. "STOP!" he cried to the driver, "STOP HERE!"

  Grace turned to Basil in confusion. Before she could utter a word, Basil had already left the car, sprinting the other way.

  He understood it. His previous deduction was wrong, "how foolish one me!" he said, "how could I be so blind?!"

  He sprinted all the way to the hospital, pushing every doctor, parent, and nurse out of his way, and rushed straight towards Angela's room. Bursting through the door, he saw Angela sitting soundly on her bed, reading a book she borrowed from the hospital.

  "Mr Detective," the girl said in surprise, "you're back."

  Basil stood by the doorway, catching his breath. His breathing was fast, his hair dripping with sweat, but his eyes never left Angela. Slowly, he walked towards Angela, sitting down on the far corner of the bed, looking at her.

  "I want to tell you a story," he said suddenly.

  The girl smiled. She placed her book to the side and looked at Basil with anticipation, her eyes full of life and light, her smile as soft as a lily flower.

  "There was once a girl." Baisl started, "a girl who wanted to kill her own friend. She succeeded, but her friend's father grew suspicious."

  Angela's eye's showed a hint of surprise, her head tilted, and her body leaning forward.

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  "Slowly, the girl started to see the father everywhere she was. Her school, the coffee shop near her home, then in the stairwells, studying, investigating." Basil continued. he noticed the girl's hands start to tense, as her gaze shifted down. "She started to grow anxious that the boy's father would figure out the truth, so she decided to kill him. But how, you may ask? But she devised a plan."

  "She first needed a scapegoat, a person whom she could blame it on if things went badly. Thinking of her own father, she heartlessly used him as her scapegoat." Basil said, "The girl was smart, very smart. She knew that a father's love was second to a mother's love, so she used a journal to use that love to her advantage. Purposfully leaving it out in the open for her father to see," he said, "When the detectives came, she played the role of an oblivious innocent child, she played the role of a victim, she played the role of a helpless girl, so well that not even the detective could see it logically."

  "But then." Basil said in a low voice, "Something went wrong. The little girl didn't think the detectives would come back so quickly. Out of panic, she drugged herself and burned the notebook, hoping to get rid of any evidence and herself, but it was all in vain."

  Angela's hands fidgeted, and her feet shifted under the covers. Basil could see the discomfort in her body, but unlike last time, this time was the discomfort of being exposed. But Basil continued nevertheless.

  "The detective always wondered what those ripped pages were," he said, "if I had to guess... I'm guessing it would be the method of the kill."

  "To find a white van at a mechanic's, to dress up as the father to try and frame whatever poor soul walked into his garage that night, to then beat him to death and make a great escape," he said, "truly brilliant."

  But then Basil stood up, "But every plan has holes, and her plan lies in the motive."

  Angela's eyes shifted up, looking at Basil, that life and light now lived in the darkest places on earth.

  "A man stalking a little girl wouldn't have worked in this context, because little did the girl know, the father of the boy she killed was gay," Basil concluded.

  When Basil finished, Angela stayed quiet for a moment before smiling once more, "Mr Detective, you really like stories, huh?" she said with a chuckle, "If that's the case, then you should try and fix the pacing a bit. I almost fell asleep listening to it."

  "Pretend I said nothing," he replied plainly, turning to leave. But the girl's soft voice rang out to him again, making him stop.

  "The book I'm reading talks a lot about the blind spots of a man who only thinks in logic." she said, "it says that logical people often miss the most important things, causing them to fail and falter. Is that true?"

  When Basil turned, she saw that the girl was no longer smiling and looking at him with a soft expression; she was now looking at him with eyes as sharp as thorns, and a smile as dark as rose. Slowly, he walked back, folding a piece of paper, and placing it upright.

  "Your teacher sucks at assigning homework." Basil said plainly.

  Without waiting another second, he turned and left.