The whole Corey family is lined up before him and James wonders how no one ever picked up on them before now.

Their house was police-raided only to find that it was filled with stolen belongings, items, money. The whole damn house is filled with thieves.

Every single one of the Corey children has something on their criminal record, and James doesn’t want to sympathise with them. They’re as bad as their parents, if not worse.

The youngest of the lot is barely a teenager, a boy with curly blonde hair and dark rings under dark blue eyes. It’s what makes him dangerous, James thinks.

It’s what makes the whole family dangerous, their beauty. It’s what makes people think that they can be trusted.

James is assigned to look after the youngest until the child services can collect him the next day. He just has to sit by the cell and make sure the kid doesn’t try anything stupid.

He doesn’t want to sympathise with the kid, but he’s decent enough to pretend he didn’t hear the body-wrecking sobs in the night.