by Ford, Lizzy
“Ready?” he asks.
“Not really.”
“Let’s go.”
There’s no turning back now. Even if I said no, I have a feeling he isn’t going to let me change my mind. I’m thrilled to have his full backing, but I’m terrified, too. I trail the three men in suits into the building. We walk a familiar path to the nicer side and to the same conference room where I learned about my community service. I’m relieved we’re not going to an interview room; that place was scary.
At one end of the large table, the DA sits with a clerk, two others in suits and two welcome faces: Dom and Kiesha. I haven’t seen Kiesha since the hospital, and I smile at her. Her lips are as ruby as ever, her large, dark eyes smiling at me, even if she doesn’t. She and Dom look stiff and sit against the wall behind the table.
The DA stands and shakes everyone’s hands, even mine. I’m angry at him still, because I’m pretty sure he was the one who used Dom to set me up. It’s definitely a lawyerly thing to do; I can see Chris doing something like that.
“I see you brought a team,” DA Tenet says. “I hope you haven’t changed your mind, Ms. Abbott-Renou.”
“I’m here to ensure her rights are preserved and that she experiences no mental duress,” Chris replies. “And no, she hasn’t.”
“Good. Have a seat.”
I do, uncomfortable with all the people there. I hoped it’d be more private. I sit beside Chris, across from DA Tenet. I tuck my shaking hands beneath my thighs.
“First, we need an official statement, in your own words, of what happened that night,” DA Tenet tells me.
“Um, you might need this, too.” I pull out Ari’s cell phone and pass it to him. “I know you said last time I was here that you pulled the picture I took that night off my old phone. I sent the pic to Ari, and she kept it. We thought you might want it, just in case.”
Chris glances at me, and I realize I never told him about the picture or the DA’s attempt to get more information out of me about that night. The DA sees his look, too.
“We’re putting everything on the table,” Chris says in a voice that says he won’t take any crap. It’s the one he uses with me sometimes, and I want to warn the DA it means he’s dead serious.
Of course, I’d rather see the DA squirm. The DA looks at me for a long moment.
“Interesting,” he says. “I wondered why I didn’t receive a phone call after your last visit here.”
“Or the police ball,” I add. “When you set me up.”
“We needed to know if you could identify who hurt you.”
“We’ll discuss this later.” Chris’s voice is cold.
The DA nods. There’s a tense moment where the two of them size each other up. I’m pretty sure Chris can take anyone. I’m also pretty sure I’ll be in almost as much trouble as the DA later for not telling Chris about the set ups. One of Chris’s team members glances down at his phone. The movement seems to unfreeze the room, and the DA pulls my old statement free from his portfolio.
“Do you want to revise this or start over?” he asks, sliding it to me.
“Start over,” I reply.
“You can write it or dictate it, and our clerk will type it up for you.” He motions to the clerk at the stenograph.
“I, um, I think I’d rather dictate it,” I say.
The team member who checked his phone leans behind me to tap Chris.
“Are you open to questions as you go, or would you rather wait until the end?” the DA asks.
“Whatever,” I reply, distracted by the whispering behind me.
Something’s going on. Chris’s lackey leaves quickly without a word to us, and Chris is checking his phone.
“Everything okay?” the DA asks.
Chris says nothing. He sits back. I have no idea what’s going on and by the glance Tenet gives his people, he doesn’t either. Chris’s gaze goes to the door to the conference room a moment before it opens.
I look, too, and my breath catches.
Daddy. And he doesn’t look happy. His smile is quick and deceptively open, but I can see the tension in it. I know all his smiles, and this one isn’t good.
“Senator,” the DA stands, surprised. “We weren’t expecting you.”
“I apologize for the surprise visit. I just need a word with my daughter.”
I silently scream at him to leave. I don’t know what Chris has told him. After the police ball, I don’t know what he’ll do. I rise and walk down the table to him. He doesn’t leave the room, so I’m hoping he’s there to say something …not too bad. I’m desperately clinging to this thought as I reach him.
“Hi, Daddy,” I greet him quietly.
“Mia.” I hear the quiet anger in his voice, even though he keeps the smile plastered on his face for the others. “I thought we discussed Robert Connor a couple of weeks ago. Before this all … explodes for you, I want you to know you can still walk away.”
I’m stunned by his words. He takes my silence as agreement.
“Chris can handle it, Mia. We’ll get you into more counseling, and soon, this will all be just a blip. Robert Connor is a good kid. He’s got an alibi, Mia. The type of fallout this kind of misplaced accusation will cause is beyond what you can imagine.”
“Daddy …” I can barely hear my voice. “Daddy, Robert’s lying.”
“I’ve watched him grow up, and I’ve known his father for forty years. We attended college together. Keith wouldn’t tolerate this type of behavior in his son,” Daddy says. He makes a show of hesitating then going on. “I have a feeling you’re doing this because I’ve been too busy with my work to pay attention to you the past few years. Now that I know my own mistake, I want to remedy my behavior.”
A few weeks ago, I would’ve been happy he admitted he’s been an awful father to me. I gaze into eyes the same color as mine. All I can think is that he’s playing me. Like Molly said, this is a game. If I sit down across from the DA, Daddy loses. And Daddy never loses.
“Come home with me, and let Chris handle this,” he adds. “I’ll get you the help you need.”
Like he did for Mom. I almost gasp. I’ll be banned to some rehab or psych ward somewhere!
“You would believe Robert over your own daughter?” I manage.
“Don’t make a scene. I think this cry for attention has gone far enough. I hear you, Mia. You went through something bad. You might feel like I wasn’t there for you, and this is your revenge.”
“What? No, I –”
He holds up his hand to silence me. “I accept my responsibility in this. I’m asking you to be responsible, too, and not to accuse someone who did nothing wrong. Blame me, if it helps you get through this.”
“Daddy, I have pictures. I remember him being there. I know Robert did this, not just to me, but-”
“Mia, you’re confused and angry,” Daddy interrupts again. “You don’t know what you saw. You were drunk and drugged. You were probably dressed –”
“Daddy, they killed a girl!”
“Lower your voice,” he says. The fake smile is still on his face while I’m flipping out.
“Either Robert is lying or I am, Daddy,” I hiss. “You tell me whose side you’re on!”
He gazes at me for a moment then pulls something free from his portfolio. It’s a picture. Of me. Leaving Dr. Agatha’s office.
My heart stops. I don’t know how he got this. From the angle, it looks like it was taken from the ceiling. It must have been, because there was no one with me in that hallway. My breathing is ragged, and I cover my mouth. Hot tears hit the back of my hand.
“The Robert Connor issue isn’t the first time you’ve lied to me,” he says quietly. “I just paid five million to keep that photo out of the papers. You murdered your child, even knowing how strongly I oppose abortion. Accusing the Connors of such a crime could fracture the party, even lose us the next Presidency. Not to mention the harm it’ll do to our own family.”
I don’t know what to say. I d
on’t know what to think. I’m staring at the picture of me leaving Dr. Agatha’s. I know why he doesn’t trust me, but he can’t possibly believe I’d accuse an innocent man just to get back at him.
“Stop this nonsense and come home with me. I’ll put you in a school overseas until this all blows over,” he continues. “You’ll be eighteen in three weeks. I’ll amend your trust fund, so you can access it and go wherever you want.”
Suddenly, I realize he’s doing to me what he does to other politicians on TV: manipulating them. He doesn’t care about me at all; he’ll tell me what I want to hear in one breath then accuse me of fucking up in the next.
I shake my head.
For the first time since entering the conference room, his smile slips. He’s not just angry, he’s furious and worried. Not about me, of course. I’m about to destroy the world he and his family built. It’s all he cares about. He doesn’t even care his daughter was hurt, that seven other girls were hurt, and one is dead.
Molly’s right. I can’t live in their world. I look pleadingly towards Chris. I can’t win against Daddy, but I can’t walk away either.
“You’ve always been selfish, but this is beyond anything I expected of you,” Daddy says. “No daughter of mine would do these things to her family.”
The words hit me hard.
“I’ll give you one more chance. Come home with me, now, or don’t come home tonight.”
I draw a shaky breath. “No, Daddy.”
“Gerard, let’s talk.” Chris steps between us smoothly, his hand on Daddy’s shoulder. He guides Daddy towards the door.
Daddy stares at me for one more moment then smiles at those in the room as he and Chris step into the hallway. I pull in deep breaths, silently repeat my mantras and try to gain control over my emotions. Worst case scenario just happened. Now, there really is nothing left for me to lose.
“Ms. Abbott-Renou,” DA Tenet says. “Do we need to reschedule?”
I shake my head and wipe my face before I turn towards the several sets of eyes gazing at me. I don’t know what they overheard, but I’m hoping we were quiet enough they didn’t hear too much. From the looks on their faces, they overheard enough that I feel humiliated.
I look down at the photo. I don’t know how Daddy got this. Surely Chris and Molly didn’t tell him. If not them, then how? I don’t think I can trust anyone else in the house but Chris. Folding the photo, I look at Chris’s team.
“Get out,” I order them.
They don’t move for a moment.
“Ms. Abbott-" one of them starts.
“Go,” I say.
They rise and leave. Feeling alone on my side of the room, I sit down across from the DA. He’s gazing at me hard. I look past him to Dom, who’s leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. For once, I can’t read his face. I’m too embarrassed by the scene with Daddy to hold his gaze for long. I stare at the table.
No one says a word.
“Where do I start?” I ask the DA at last.
“From the beginning.”
Before I start, Chris returns without Daddy or his team. He’s tense but doesn’t order me up. He sits down beside me and takes out his notebook to take notes.
I do as the DA says. I tell him everything from how I was dressed to how much I drank to the fake ID, fireflies, the strange pill I spit out, the things Robert and Madison said to me, watching them shoot up with some drug while I danced around the fountain. I choke up talking about what they did to me. I close my eyes and recall the pain, the black outs, trying to escape. Begging Robert not to hurt me. Screaming when they both did. I even remember hurting Madison and how that pissed him off enough to beat me first with his fists and kicks then with the metal thing that knocked me out. Finally, I tell him how I woke up and saw Kiesha and Dom, and how Dom had a New York accent like my grandfather’s, and I thought my late grandfather must’ve sent Dom to protect me.
I tell them everything, even things I didn’t tell Ari and Dr. Thompkins.
The DA doesn’t interrupt. No one does. I hear the clerk typing. When I stop, the clerk stops. It’s quiet, and I open my eyes. They’re all staring at me. Kiesha is frowning. Dom’s hand is covering his mouth, and his gaze is intense, angry. The DA looks like he’s absorbing everything, and Chris is gripping his pen hard enough that his knuckles are white.
“You remember more than the other girls,” the DA says finally. “They were fully drugged.”
“I wasn’t so lucky,” I murmur.
“Will you consent to a line-up?” one of the men beside him asks.
“Detective Wilson,” the DA says. “He’s working the cases.”
“Yes,” I reply. “I’ve got nothing else to lose.”
“You can be assured of our complete cooperation,” Chris adds.
“I came away from the Abbott-Renou’s discussion with a different impression,” the DA says. “Does the good Senator share your eagerness to cooperate?”
“The Abbott-Renous are entitled to keep their family business private. Mia will cooperate.”
I don’t know what that means or if I can go home tonight or not. The DA doesn’t look satisfied with Chris’s answer either. Chris is good at that.
“Do you have a plan for dealing with the publicity this is going to generate?” the DA asks. “It’s a concern for my office. The potential magnitude of interest in these incidents is about to skyrocket.”
“Our preparations are not the concern of your office.”
“Let me rephrase.” The DA sits forward. “I am willing to hold onto this for a short period of time, before we go public, as we finalize our case. It is clear to me that the Senator and his daughter are not on the same page. We need her testimony and cooperation. We don’t need phone calls from the President telling us to back off.”
I flush and look at Chris. He’s quiet for a moment, considering.
“At least two weeks,” he says at last. “On October first, Mia will be eighteen and able to make her own decisions legally.”
Daddy’s ditching me. I knew he would.
“We are considering pulling her out of school on her eighteenth birthday, and she’ll be assigned a team of bodyguards,” Chris adds. “We are fully aware of the type of negative attention this trial has the potential to generate. If you will concur, what hours she owes on her community service after you go public will be dismissed.”
“We can do that,” the DA agrees. “I’ve asked Kiesha and Dom to attend meetings, their duties allowing. I think they make you more comfortable, Mia?”
I nod.
“Kiesha was one of the responders for three of the eight rapes, including the last one. Rape victims normally respond better to female officers, but I understand now why you’ve been open with Dom, since his accent reminds you of your grandfather. Do you have any questions for me?”
“What happens next?” I ask, afraid of the answer.
“We’re finalizing investigating the case. In a few weeks, we’ll call you and the other girls in for a line-up to identify your attackers, present our findings to the DA’s office, and arrest the assailants for interviewing. Chances are, they’ll lawyer up, go to arraignment and be released on bail. After that, we wait for a court date or see if they’ll plead out,” Detective Wilson said.
It sounds overwhelming. “Do I have to be here for all of that?”
“No. We’ll call you in when we need something,” the DA says. “You won’t be back until after you’re eighteen. My office will release a statement to the press today saying you were here as part of your probation. No one will know we’re pressing forward until October first.”
I look at Chris. I want so badly to ask him what happens when I turn eighteen.
“Thank you, Mia, for coming forward.” The DA’s small smile is sincere. “You’re doing the right thing.”
“I hope so.”
“Too late now,” Chris says.
I roll my eyes at him. The DA is studying me.
“You have
a minute, Chris?” he asks, gaze going to my uncle.
“I do. Mia, wait for me outside the conference room.”
The rest of us in the room take the dismissal and leave. Kiesha holds out her arms when we step outside the conference room, and I hug her hard.
“You did so good in there!” she says.
“Thank you for being here,” I whisper, shaking.
“We’ll get ‘em. I know it.” Her resolve makes me feel better. “I’m happy to see you’re healed.”
“It’s been rough,” I admit.
“You’re a fighter. Dom pegged you right.”
“My card, Ms. Mia.” Detective Wilson says from behind me.
Kiesha releases me, and I turn to take the card.
“We’ll be in contact,” he says then joins the other man in a suit. They walk down the hall.
Kiesha glances at Dom then squeezes my arm and walks the same way the detective went. I look at Dom, who’s standing quietly across the hall from me. He gives me a small, distracted smile.
“I’m proud of you, Mia,” he says. “I really am.”
“Thanks, but that’s not gonna help me in two weeks when I’m homeless and lawyer-less.”
“Chris won’t let that happen.”
“I wonder if your sister has room at the shelter or if I should just pick a ditch?” I joke. At least, I mean for it to be a joke. The last word catches in my throat, and I’m embarrassed by the pain in my voice.
“You’re better off in a ditch than with that family of yours.”
His blunt words – and the hard emotion in his voice – startle me. If he’s angry, it means he cares. It dawns on me that he really did make a choice at the ball, after I issued my ultimatum. I can’t believe he chose me. No one ever chooses me!
“You got my number,” he says, upbeat once again. Dom has a game face, too, like everyone else in my life. He puts his back on as he pretends not to care. Except I know the truth now.
“Thank you,” I reply.
“No problem,” he says too easily. He starts away.
“Dom, wait,” I say, touching his arm.
