D-2925: Jumpercable

one: a proposition

The files lie. The reports lie. None of it is true. I would never kill someone. Not on purpose. It had nothing to do with me. Just a freak accident...

...

These are the things I would tell myself. There's no way that I would possess the ability to fry someone from the inside out with nothing but my hands.

But I know the truth. It's my fault. And I deserve whatever happens to me.

...

"Michael Mae, correct?" a long woman asks me as she sits on the other side of the cold steel table.
"Yes ma'am," I respond quietly, unable to raise my voice above a whisper.

She nods as she opens a file in front of her, her face devoid of emotion.
"'...shoved the victim, Riley [REDACTED], into a circuit box that was tampered with to make it a high enough voltage to make his organs explode.' My, my, young lady, aren't you temperamental?"
"No, I-"
"You managed to be charged with voluntary manslaughter and have a 10 year sentence, Michael. The only reason you aren't on death row for 1st degree murder is because they couldn't prove you tampered with the fuse box."

"I didn't kill him!" my voice sounds foreign to me, desperate as I try to convince myself of my words even as my face heats up. I always blush when I lie.
"It... it was a storm... he got hit by lightning..."

"I can tell you're lying, based on the story you told the officers during your arrest," she turns to a specific page in her file, "my division is called for these things, you see. Now, you claim that you merely pushed him away and, 'blue lightning came out of my palms and attacked him'."

I swallow harshly and stare at my hands, ready for another wave of embarrassment to hit me as yet another person tells me that I'm either crazy or a liar because these things aren't possible.

"I might believe you, by the way."

My head jerks in her direction as my eyes widen and my brow furrows, confused. Is she mocking me?

"Like I said. My division is called for these sorts of things," she gathers her papers and sets them neatly in front of her, pulling out only one and slowly sliding it towards me, "I might just have a proposition to get you out of prison."

For the first time since entering the room, the faintest of amused smiles tugs at the left corner of her mouth...