Clementine had become a wild child. Born in America but raised abroad, she now had little regard for the expectations of high society. But her reckless ways eventually catch up with her when she is kicked out of college in New York City and forced t...
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They were to go see them.
Her mother, the lawyer, her.
Her father. Him.
Clementine dressed in a demure black. She wasn't sure why it felt like a funeral, but it did. If not of somebody, then of an ideal.
She wasn't officially going to see him, but as they were all being held up in the same place for the time being, she knew she was going to find a way. She needed it. If not closure, then at least seeing him, to know that he was alright, or as alright as he could be in this situation.
The lawyer already had a black car waiting for them outside, when Clementine walked step in step with her mother she asked her how she was.
"I am trying very hard to keep it together," her mother said underneath her veil.
Clementine squeezed her mothers hand before sliding into the back of the car.
"It's very simple," the lawyer wa speaking from the front seat, beside the driver Clementine has never seen before. "We go in, there will be photographers os brace yourself, but we go straight for the door."
At the mention of photographers, Clementine understood why her mother opted for the veil and she wondered if perhaps this wasn't her first rodeo. Clementine wondered what must have happened before she was old enough to remember.
"Then, you will both have time with Pedro. One at a time, you decided who goes first. 15 minutes max, and it will be tight security, so" turning around to look at Clementine, "don't try anything."
Clementine feigned an innocent look and then proceeded to look out the window for the rest of the ride.
When they pulled up, she saw the flashes of light before anything else.
She was so caught up I her head that she almost forgot how much publicity this was getting outside of her. Even Mina texted her, asking if everything was alright but she couldn't even reply, she was in such a place where mundane texts couldn't bother her, even if she did feel guilty.
"Ready?" The lawyer asked, looking back at them again, and this time it was her mother squeezing Clementine's hand. Si.
The shouts form the photographers and the bulbs flashing blinded her, but she did was directed, finding the door first and then keeping here eye to the round until she got to it as quickly as she could.
Once inside, the silence was a rough transition.
"Okay, its showtime." The lawyer led them both through a variety of security checks, and Clementine realized she entered not a jail - which she was afraid they were going to - but some sort of law building, with a conveniently located 'holding' cell at the back.
"Who's going in first?" He asked them, and it was a consensus that Clementine's mother would go first, the lawyer with her.
Clementine was told to sit tight, with the security guard.
