“-don’t say anything. I’ve called up a good friend of mine, the best lawyer I know, and he’s going to guide you through everything.”
“A lawyer?” I asked in a monotone voice, my first words since I’d heard of Vera’s death.
Raphael looked at me as if he knew what I was insinuating.
“Kate, you’re innocent. I know that. But the quickest way out of this mess is to have someone that knows the ropes of the justice system.”
He’d been giving me instructions on what to and what not to do for the past hour or so. I’d made note of it by staring at the wall silently as I had for the past two days. I had been called for another interrogation and Raphael had already pulled out all the stops.
I didn’t say anything as he continued, hugging my knees tightly to my chest. It had taken a lot of energy for me to change into a t-shirt and yoga pants, and I still hadn’t eaten anything. Not that Raphael hadn’t tried his best to get me to.
When I got to the station I answered everything as honestly as I could, even when the lawyer gestured for me to shut up. The man interrogating me had introduced himself as Detective James, and had no sympathy whatsoever for me. He was in his fifties, with greying hair and a mustache, and asked questions rapidly and with no expression.
As soon as we were finished I walked out, deaf to what the lawyer, some Cynthia Rollins, was whispering at me. Raphael was waiting to pick me up and took me back to the condo.
Another agonizing day went by. I showered maybe five times, for hours on end trying to scrub the scent of blood away. I kept the water hot, scalding hot, and I felt just a tiny bit cleaner afterwards. It was hard to eat, but Raphael watched me like a hawk and coaxed food into me gently. I remarked offhandedly in my mind that he would probably make a good father.
It was the next day that a cruiser came to the building to arrest me. I had a blank expression on my face as I felt the cuffs close around my wrists and heard the officer reading me my rights.
I looked at Raphael. Every moment I had spent with him sped through my vision and I offered him a tiny smile. By the time I had mustered the courage to whisper that I loved him the cruiser was already speeding down the street and his eyes were only in my memory.
I wondered, momentarily, when I would see him again. And then I wondered what was to become of me.