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The cop escorting her held a tablet out to Cora. “Please sign this to confirm you are paying bail for this individual.”
Cora looked Twig over, then looked at the cop. “Did you hurt her?” she demanded.
Signy’s eyebrows traveled up her forehead. Bold as brass.
“I fell,” Twig mumbled. “For reals. I just fell.”
“Ms. Marten tried to evade arrest and tripped as she was running,” the cop said. “Now, are you paying bail for this individual?”
“Cora, don’t,” Twig said in weak protest.
Cora shot her a glare as she took the tablet. “Oh, should I not? Would you like to stay here?”
Twig said nothing. She reddened and looked away, and in doing so, noticed Signy. Her eyes widened. “Why is she here?”
Signy decided she could do with a sip of cold chicory.
“Well, y’see,” Cora said as she furiously entered her information into the tablet, “we were on our way to get takeout when I got a call from you. She came with me because she’s nice and wanted to help, and also because otherwise, I might’ve fucking murdered you in the middle of a police station.”
“Don’t joke about that,” the cop said.
“Sorry,” Cora said quickly. She finished the form in silence, looking ready to spit nails.
Signy wondered if perhaps it would be best to leave. She was here to hold Cora’s hand through the wait, and she’d done that now, and if her being there was only going to make things worse, then—
The cop took the tablet, entered some command into a device in his pocket, and removed Twig’s cuffs. “You’re free to go,” he said. “You’ll be receiving a notification regarding your disciplinary hearing within two to four days.” He gave Cora a nod that could’ve meant anything from apology to rebuke, then headed back the way he came.
Cora watched the cop leave, then looked straight at Twig. “Did you really fall?”
“Yes,” Twig said, fidgeting with her wrists and glancing self-consciously around the waiting room.
“Twig, if someone—”
“Really, I just fell. I tripped. I’d tell you, otherwise. Promise.”
“Okay. Good.” Cora nodded, pursing her lips.
Signy, likewise relieved by that clarification, tried to weigh options for what came next. She could leave. She could stay. If Twig hadn’t eaten, either, maybe they should all grab dinner. Then again, maybe that would be—
Cora cuffed Twig upside the head. “What the fuck were you thinking?”
Twig swatted Cora’s arm. “Ow! What the hell—”
Signy set down her mug and folded her hands in her lap. At this point, a late dinner was a late dinner.
“Are you out of your fucking mind?” Cora continued.
“Do we have to do this here?” Twig said.
“Where else?” Cora said, throwing up her hands. “Your apartment? Oh, right, you don’t have one. Sorry, I forgot—when I checked there last week, I learned you got kicked out. And you didn’t pick up my calls about it—”
“I’m sorry—”
“—you texted me just enough to let me know you weren’t dead, and I had no idea where you were, because you haven’t told me for some reason—”
Twig winced, not meeting Cora’s gaze. “I didn’t want you to worry.”
The laugh that burst out of Cora was like nothing Signy had heard before—biting, exhausted, hurt. “Are you serious?” Cora snapped. “Do you think not telling me where you are for a whole week and then finding you at a police station is making me not worry?”
