No progress so far. Nothing.

But had she expected to make serious headway in her cold case after the first three days? Obviously not. This case had been cold for years. There was a slim to no chance of her solving it within the first seventy two hours. It was a cold case for a reason.

She had never solved a case before anyways. She had been a part of one, a piece in the puzzle, a puzzle still not solved, but that- that was different. That was on the back burner. This was her focus now, finish her thesis, graduate, then move on with her life. But how do you move on after you've been the final piece of a homicide investigation? It's not easy. Some would even say it wasn't possible.

"You must be the new intern."

She looked up at the receptionist at the police station. She nodded. "Detective Hurst just got in. He's back there to the right." She instructed her. Fancy thanked her and followed her instructions. Her steps echoing in the hallway as she tried to fight back the thoughts of her past, pushing it back down in the box in the back of her mind where the kept the whole experience locked away for safe keeping. Keep it safe, don't let it out. Lock it up and tuck the key in your pocket, but don't loose it.

"Intern?" A man at a desk asked as she entered his office. She nodded. "Ah, intern."

He couldn't be much older than her, maybe five years at the most. He had clean cut black hair, stubble on his face, pale blue eyes, and donut crumbs on his button down gray shirt.

"Have a seat." He said as she gestured to a chair across from his desk. Fancy did as she was told. "You're the kid working on that cold case from 83 right? With the pizza place and the missing kids?" "Yes." "Yessir?" Fancy's jaw tensed immediately. This guy had to be joking. He was probably thirty at the most, only eight years older than her. Still acceptable for marriage, though that was far from a possibility.

"Yessir." She hissed. "Good, manners are important, intern."

He had to be kidding.

"Honestly, I'll be straight up with you, intern. I don't think you'll solve this case. In fact I know you won't. There's a reason it's been cold for years."

He handed her a file folder, the case file, and flipped it open with his pinky. There wasn't much inside. A photo of William Afton, young and lively as he stood with Henry Schmidt. She forgot to ask Mike about that. She would return to the pizzeria tonight. There was also an interview transcript and a VHS tape.

"As you can see there was no evidence left behind and no one was ever charged. The children were never found, alive or dead." He said and closed the file and pushed it over to her. "You can play around with this but bring it back to me when you give up, m'kay?" "Aren't you supposed to be observing me while I work on this case?" "no." He said with a cackle.

"Intern, I have more important things to do than monitor your failure to crack this case. I'm a busy man, sweetheart." "right." she wrapped her fingers around the file and held it close. "Do I at least have access to police resources while I work on this case?" "Yeah obviously." He said. "See Janet at the front desk on your way out, she'll get you processed in the system." Fancy stood to walk out.

"And one more thing," She turned to look at him, she was eager to leave and stood frozen in the doorframe of his office.

"You should smile more. Pretty thing like you doesn't look so good sporting a frown." She didn't say anything. She didn't want to. She simply left, case file in her hands.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

"You're back?" Mike looked at her confused. "Naturally I am." Fancy replied as she pushed past him, wondering back to his office.

"I have some more question for you." She added. Mike sighed as he followed her.

"I told you already, I don't know anything else about the missing kids." "This isn't about them." She replied as she sat down in that same fold out chair Vanessa had used the night prior. She immediately got out her interview kit, mikes, recorder, the whole nine yards and began to set up.

"Seriously? I'm kind of working here." "No you aren't." Fancy said. "What would you be doing if I wasn't here right now? Sleeping? Watching those monitors and drying your eyes out? You have nothing better to do right now, Mike." He groaned.

"What are you even here to ask me about?" "Oh, just following up on a lead." "Which is?" "Your father." Mike froze. He let her words sink in and then charged over to her, finger out and pointing down to her as he shouted.

"If you're insinuating that my father had anything to do with these missing children-" "Calm down, Mike. No I'm not insinuating that. But he might have known who was responsible. That's why I have to ask you about him." She said as she gestured to his seat, with her mike set up and ready.

"Now sit. We've got work to do."

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

"State your name." "But you know my name already." "It's procedure, Mike." She said with a hint of irritation in her voice. "Name please." "Michael Scott Schmidt."

"Relation to Henry Schmidt?" "He's my father." Mike responded. "Your father co-owned a pizzeria with a man named William Afton in the early 1970's. What do you know about this?"

Mike hesitated. He rubbed the stubble on his chin as he processed the question and thought about how to answer it. "Well... I wasn't around in the early 70's. I was born in 1983, so I don't know much about that, mom might have mentioned it when I was young but I can't remember much. But I remember dad bringing home pizza from his restaurant some times while mom was pregnant with Garett. But something happened one day- an accident. That's what dad said, and we weren't allowed to go to his restaurant anymore."

"Did you ever go?" "I think we went once, for a grand opening of one of the restaurants. I honestly don't remember, Fancy, like I said, it was years ago and I was really young."

"What about the accident?" She asked urgently. "Did you ever find out what that was about?" "Just that some kid got hurt and the place closed down. My parents never told me what really happened, probably for a good reason."

This was leading her nowhere. Another dead end.

"Did your dad ever talk about his partner at work? William Afton?" "Like I said, I was young, I don't remember much." "Anything?" Fancy begged. "I'm literally working with scraps here." "He was very talented with technology, I remember that. But that's it. I couldn't even pick the guy out in a crowd if I saw him today."

"Any way I could talk to your father?" Mike shook his head. "Dad's been out of the picture for a while now." "Where is he?" "How should I know? When my mom.... When she.... Look he's just been gone for a while. Left me and my sister to fend for ourselves. My dad and I aren't on the best terms at the moment." "Okay okay." She unplugged her mike.

"Thank you for your time." she said as she packed away her things. She looked at him for a minute, his eyes were so sad, so tired. She saw not a night guard, but an older brother who practically raised himself and his sister. She felt sympathy for him, an emotion she didn't get often.

"I'm not going to lie to you." She said as she shouldered her bag. "You'll probably see me tomorrow night." "I'll be expecting you."