I always loved my mom, I mean she was nice, kind, loving... To me, she was the perfect mom. We were close too, my mom and I. I still vividly remember her and me watching marathons of soap operas whenever I was sick. And the time she took me to her office to see what she did for a living. I loved my mom, I really did, and I always wanted to be just like her. People used to ask me what I'd do without her, and I always said I'd die. I could never imagine life without her. Of course, I never did that, not after she really passed. My mom was murdered for being a good citizen, for being a lawyer, for finding out the truth of someone else's murder. I still remember the time they told us, me and my dad. It was at night, and dad and I were waiting for mom at a restaurant for dinner. Mom was never late, but this one time... she was. Dad kept telling me it was just something at work, but I could tell he was scared, but there was nothing I could do but wait. The two of us waited and waited and waited, until the restaurant had to close. We had no choice but to leave and go home, and when we reached our apartment door, there the officers were, looking sad with their heads down. I'll never forget the week after that. I spent most of the time in my room, crying. I had no idea what to do without my mom - I even thought about suicide, but I never did do it. I never did, because I felt like there was something I needed to finish, and that's to catch the man that murdered my mom. So, I guess that's why I became a homicide detective. To find the justice in this world, and to find closure for families... and myself.