Shrouded

.V.

Despite how uncomfortable I was, I fell asleep, slumping over the table with my hands still bound behind me. I started roughly awake when the door banged open, and the blonde cop marched into the room, her icy demeanor unchanged. Behind her came the male officer, his hair now dry, but still dark, dark brown. He carried a paper cup with a teabag's string hanging over the side. Blondie stepped behind me and used a little key to unlock one of the cuffs, leaving my left wrist still shackled, and then brought the empty cuff around and locked it to a small bar protruding from the top of the table. She was more rough than she needed to be.

My chilled body longed for the drink. I watched the steam swirl languidly into the air, and smelled peppermint and honey. The man set the cup in front of me, and I grabbed it with my free hand, raising it immediately to my lips. The liquid scalded my throat as I gulped, the teabag bumped against my lips as I drained the drink.

I placed the empty cup down, and panted, trying to cool my burning mouth. The blonde cop scoffed, rolling her eyes at me, but the male officer smiled gently. I met his eye, and he grinned a little wider. "Em, would you make her another tea?" His eyes flicked to the woman, and she rolled her mismatched eyes again as she walked out of the room, grabbing the empty cup on the way.

When the door closed, the man and I were alone in the room. I glanced up at him, and then nervously away. He leaned against the door, and we sat in silence for a moment until he spoke. "What's your name?"

It was an innocent question, but I panicked. I wasn't sure what I should do. On TV, they said that you should never talk to the police without a lawyer present. I remembered something the arresting officer had said as he was putting me in the car. 'Right to an attorney', or something. I shook, staring at the floor as I asked, "Should I have an attorney?"

The officer leaned toward me, his face serious. "Do you need one?"

I shook my head rapidly. "Dora," I blurted. "My... my name is Dora."

"Really?" He sounded disbelieving.

I nodded.

"Hm. Doesn't suit you. Well, as long as you're not obstructing the truth from an officer of the law..."

Something about the way he said this scared me, and I quickly corrected myself. "Well, my full name is Theodora. Dora is a nickname."

"Hm," he said again. "Do you want to be called Dora?"

I shook my head. "Theodora is fine."

"Okay. Well, where do you live, Theodora?"

"Um. Here and there."

The officer nodded, like my answer had made perfect sense. "I'm Tom, Theodora. Tom Daniels. You can call me Tom, Daniels, or Officer Daniels. What's your full name?"

"Theodora Andrea Corda."

"Quite a title," he joked. "How old are you?"

"Sevent- wait." I paused, trying to remember the date. "What is today?"

"August fifth."

"Eighteen." My birthday had been on the third. I hadn't even realized.

The door swung open, and the blonde officer came back into the room, setting another cup of tea in front of me, sloshing some over the edge as she did so.

"And this is Em-" Tom began, gesturing to Blondie. She cut him off.

"Officer Kane." She glared at me, and rolled her eyes at Tom. I wondered if her eyes hurt from all the rolling.