~ one ~

4:15, April 30th, 2016.

   I watch as she looks intently out of her office window, down at the city below her. She looks down at her freshly manicured nails before shutting the curtains abruptly and marching out of her office.

"Raena," she begins as she places both hands at the edge of my desk.

   I look up from my computer to meet her eyes, "It's actually Raelynn. Emphasis on the 'lynn'."

"Yeah yeah OK. Anyways, as you've been informed, people are naming you the best reporter in New York, and I'd be lying if I said I didn't agree with them, so I have a job for you," she inquired.

"Yes, Miss Olsen, whatever you need. What is it?" 

"I'm going to email you a link. Click it, read it, come see me when you're done." She walked gracefully back to her office, sitting down in her large white desk chair. I pulled up the link, a short essay with an intriguing title.

STATE SENATOR ALAN CHYPLIN MYSTERIOUSLY MURDERED

New York State Senator Alan Chyplin was mysteriously murdered walking home from his Manhattan office on the 28th of April, this past Thursday. Witnesses say the murder was “scarring” & “eccentric”. The police were called by a bystander around 10:00 pm Thursday night, leaving people to wonder if the murder was a mugging gone wrong, or something more.

“The body was in shambles,” says Sheriff Anna Murray, who was in the area when the police were called. “The murder wasn’t accidental. Someone wanted Senator Chyplin dead, we just have yet to figure out who.”

Murray, a notable sheriff and officer, says also that Chyplin was a close friend of hers, leaving her in wonder and disappointment about his death. Different from Chyplin’s family, who have yet to speak out on the issue.

If anyone has any information on the identity or whereabouts of the murderer or anyone in relation to him, please do not hesitate to report it to the New York Daily official tip line, listed below.

   I strode into Ms. Olsen's office, a confused look plastered on my face. "Ms. Olsen, what do you want me to do with this? I mean, isn't this more for the business department?"

"Yes, normally," she said, standing up from her chair, walking towards her wall-wide window. "Come over here, Raeloh."

"Raelynn, its Raelynn," I said as I walked over to her. "Yes, ma'am?"

"You see this city? They don't want business moguls giving them fabricated stories. They want relatable people, real people. They want someone who doesn't have a reason to lie."

"Ms. Olsen, I don't quite understand what you're asking me," I said, looking up at her.

She cleared her throat, adjusting her perfectly styled hair. "Well, since being named the best reporter in New York City, you've seemed more in touch with your job. And that's fine, but you need something to ground your little heart. So, what I want you to do... is solve it."

I froze, pushing my glasses up slightly. "Y-you want me to solve.. a murder?"

"Yes, I thought what I said was pretty clear."

"But, Ms. Olsen, I can't solve a murder. I mean with all due respect, that's crazy," I exclaimed, swinging my arm as the other one rested on my hip. 

She pinched the bridge of her nose, sighing. "You can! You weren't given this title for nothing and I picked you for a reason."

I sighed deeply before nodding my head. Ms. Olsen cheered and clapped behind me but quickly regained her composure. She straightened out her dress and cleared her throat.

"Okay, that'll be all for now. Get started. In the morning," she scolded. I have been known to stay too late.

"Goodnight, Ms. Olsen."