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I never went to the second floor. It housed the administrative level, and after arriving, it was off limits.
At least, until now…
I still had no answers when I’d arrived at the specified place to find Kit standing beside the door.
A moment of surprise showed on his features, but as quickly as it happened, it disappeared. He really was hard to read, wasn’t he?
“I hadn’t realized they’d called you here,” Kit said.
“I don’t know why I’m here,”I admitted.
He pulled out his phone from his pocket, then scrolled across the screen as he stared. He let out a soft sound before putting his phone away. “It seems you’vebeen assigned to the interrogations team, at least temporarily.”
“Why?”
“Sirens can see glimpses of people when hearing them and can determine truth from lie. That would prove useful for interrogations. It seems they feel that is a better use of your time than pulling weeds.” Kit’s voice said he didn’t care for the change.
Him not knowing about it made me uneasy. Kit seemed to know everything, yet they’d kept this information from him?
Why?
“I don’t know what to do.”
“Don’t worry. I’ve reviewed the file already. Just follow my lead.”
“You’ll be with me the whole time, right?”
His eyes widened for a moment, as if the question had surprised him. Still, he nodded. “Yes. I run many of the interrogations here, so I’ve done this many times. You will enter the room, then take a seat at the table. I will question the suspect, so you can focus only on listening. If you need a question to be asked, write it down and show it to me in case the suspect knows ASL.”
I nodded, grateful to Kit for being there. At least I wasn’t alone.
Kit stared down at me for a long moment. “You will be fine, Hera.” Somehow, him saying it made me think it might be true. With that, he used his wristband to open the door, and I followed him in.
The room reminded me of any interrogation room on police shows. It had a large mirror on one side, a metal table bolted to the floor and four chairs setaround it. The man already at the table had handcuffs on his wrists hooked to a metal ring welded to the table.
He was in his late twenties and surprisingly well dressed. It was a stupid thought, but I’d always assumed criminals would look messy, dirty, that sort of thing. Again, it probably came from my complete lack of knowledge about the real world. Just like I’d painted all shades as evil and dangerous, I’d considered all those accused of crimes already guilty.
Knowing that didn’t change my surprise that the man looked as if he could have been someone I’d met in my old life, with his suit and clean-cut look.
“Sorry to keep you waiting, Mr. Hemslock,” Kit said as he walked into the room with all the confidence in the world, as if it were no big deal.
The man looked over, his eyes narrowed. “This is highly unusual, you know? I’ve asked repeatedly for my lawyer, and I haven’t been given a chance to talk to them. I’m not sure where I’ve been brought or why, but rest assured, youwillhave a lawsuit on your hands.” The man spoke as if assured of his own importance.
The name struck me as familiar, but it took a moment for me to realize why.
I knew him.
Or it would be better to say I had met him previously and that I knew who he was.
Charles Hemslock, the youngest son of Harold Hemslock, worked as the CEO of a research agency, but his father worked for the government agency that oversaw approving scientific advances that came from shades.
Medications developed based on shade anatomy and power had agencies such as the one Charles’ father worked for to oversee and regulate them.I’d met themboth when they’d come to parties my parents had thrown.
That connection to my old life put me on edge as I took a seat in the chair Kit gestured toward. I took the regular pad of paper and pen that Kit handed to me to take notes or write questions.
“This is a rather unique situation,” Kit said. “And places such as this have more leeway with rules.”
“Rights have no leeway,” Charles responded.
