Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 89379 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 447(@200wpm)___ 358(@250wpm)___ 298(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89379 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 447(@200wpm)___ 358(@250wpm)___ 298(@300wpm)
Then I proceeded to bawl my fucking eyes out.
I allowed myself a few minutes of pure panic and fear before I forced myself to get it together. The whole situation would be cleared up. My parents would see to it.
Right?
Only my parents weren’t all-powerful. Sure, they had power, but they couldn’t stop me from being sent to prison if it was decided I was guilty. It wasn’t like innocent people were never wrongfully convicted.
I lifted a shoulder, trying to dab away my tears with the fabric of my blazer, but it was useless. Whoever came into the room next would know I’d been crying.
Time passed. I wasn’t certain how much, but then the lock clicked over, and two members of the Guard entered, a man and a woman. I recognised Sergeant Davis, whom I’d met when I’d accompanied Angela to pick her attacker from a line-up.
“Miss Cristescu,” Sergeant Davis greeted. “I’m sorry we’re meeting again under such unpleasant circumstances.”
My first instinct was to shout from the rooftops that I was innocent, but I needed to conduct myself in a calm, even-tempered fashion. After all, proclaiming your innocence too passionately often had the effect of making you appear guiltier.
I nodded and noticed the lady who’d come in had carried in some sort of medical kit and was putting on a pair of surgical gloves. To my relief, Sergeant Davis removed my cuffs and handed me a small handkerchief to dry my eyes. I was uncomfortable with him knowing I’d cried. One day, hopefully, he would be my superior.
Well, so long as I’m not sent away for murder, I thought soberly.
“Your arresting officer said you claimed to have been poisoned,” Sergeant Davis stated. “Is that correct?”
I swallowed thickly, then replied, “Yes, I’d been queueing in the cafeteria when another student knocked my water bottle from my hand. When I bent to pick it up, a caretaker was already there picking it up for me. He handed me the bottle and went. It was only after I drank the water and began to feel ill that I realised he must’ve tampered with it.”
“I see.” Sergeant Davis pressed his lips together. “Can you tell me the caretaker’s name? Or at least describe him?”
“I don’t know his name. I’d never seen him before, so I’m pretty sure he was only masquerading as someone who worked at the school. He was also wearing a hat, so I’m not sure about his hair, but he had light brown, sort of amber-coloured eyes, and he was moderately tall, five-eleven maybe?”
Sergeant Davis wrote down the description before motioning to the woman next to him. “Our medical assistant here, Mrs Rose, will take a blood sample so that we can test for poison and other substances.”
“Okay,” I said.
“Please roll up your sleeve,” Mrs Rose requested.
I did as instructed, and when she finished taking my blood, she quietly packed up her kit and departed, leaving only Sergeant Davis and me in the holding room. I grew nervous under his steely gaze, hoping I wasn’t inadvertently acting guilty.
“Do I get a phone call?” I asked, my throat dry.
“Your parents are outside,” he replied. “I presume that’s who you plan to call?” I nodded. “You’ll get to see them after I finish questioning you. To start, I’d like you to describe again your memory of the events leading up to Miss Williams’s killing. Be as detailed as you can manage.”
I drew in a deep breath, making eye contact with Sergeant Davis before I recalled the events earlier in the day. He asked me a few clarifying questions, then appeared to steel himself.
“So, we had our magical experts examine the crime scene, and judging from a few other incidents we’ve recorded of late, we believe you were framed for the murder of Belinda Williams.”
I stared at him, unsure of what to say or how to manage the sheer relief that descended upon me at his words. I thought it would take an awful lot more struggle to prove my innocence. “How?” I inhaled sharply. “How do you know I was framed?”
“Whoever stabbed Belinda was right-handed, and your weapons teacher, Mr Roe, is adamant that you favour your left,” he replied. “Your arresting officer stated that when he found you, the dagger was in your right hand, so the person who framed you must’ve placed it there, unaware of their error. There was also a strange ectoplasm found on Belinda’s body, which isn’t associated with any supernatural creature we’re aware of. Furthermore, if the test results come back with any unusual substances in your blood, there will be even more evidence of foul play.”
I frowned, remembering how I’d woken up with the dagger in my right hand. Whoever framed me wrongfully assumed it was my dominant hand, as it was for ninety percent of the population. Then my mind went to one detail he mentioned. “What do you mean by ‘other incidents’?”