Odd One Out

CHAPTER 11

Bailey
Thursday, October 16

I looked at myself in the mirror one more time before taking a deep breath, quickly stepping down the stairs.

"You know your rights?" my mom asked from the living room, looking up from the mounts of paper spread across the coffee table. Though she did not show it, I knew she was worried about how this would all go down. She seemed more worried about this than she did about the whole murderer-on-the-loose thing. It was really easy to tell – when she was scared, she would become more loving, emotional, vulnerable. When she was worried, she closed off almost entirely, plastering a look so sharp it could cut through wood. But she was my mom, so no matter how many knives her glances could throw, I could always pick out the uneasiness behind it all.

I wanted to tell her that everything would be fine, but in all honesty, I wasn't so sure myself.

Glancing at her before looking back at the door, I answered, "I do. I'm sure I won't be long."

Viktor had been "detained" for something that was apparently found in the footage of Francisco, and it wasn't long before the rest of us were called into the police department for "questioning".

"You ready kid?" my dad said from the doorstep as soon as I stepped outside. He had answered the phone call that called me into the station, and immediately by the look on his face I realized it wasn't good. My mom argued relentlessly with my father about taking me to the station, but we all agreed that it would be better if I showed up with someone less...legally aggressive. I technically wasn't being detained or arrested,  just questioned. I tried to assure her it would be fine, and that I would be fine.

Dad convinced her to work on that strangely complicated divorce case she still hadn't been able to conquer, and she reluctantly agreed, so I put my tough face on and made my way to the car without another word. The ride was extremely silent, but it wasn't because I didn't have anything to say – there were many points I wanted to make to keep him from feeling disappointed in me but if I spoke, the barrier of strength I had put on could crumble in front of us both, and I was about to be questioned.

Also, I didn't owe him anything. There were many moments in which he was the one who needed too take accountability for his actions, and not once had he apologized for anything or tried to explain himself. And so it was not my obligation to explain myself now.

It was undeniable that he had disappointed me more times than I could count, but at least he wasn't in the middle of a murder case. I had never been "disappointing" though, and today couldn't be the exception.

Maybe they know. They know what you did.

I blinked my thoughts away, focusing on the road ahead of us as I tried to keep my barrier up.

Maybe that's the footage they found, of you that night.

Once we got to the police station, my dad opened the door for me before following close behind, and it wasn't until the door closed that I realized how much I wanted this all to be some sick joke. I was still half-expecting Francisco to jump out and yell "Gotcha!" with the sound of a keychain dangling by his hip. I waited a couple of seconds before I forced my hopes back down.

That will never happen. Ever, Bailey.

"Hi, they called us in about twenty minutes ago?" I heard my dad say to the short-haired lady at the front who looked cold as stone.

"You can go ahead and take a seat," she answered, and my dad and I both started walking towards the "waiting room", which was basically just metal chairs lined up against the wall, across from a poster that showcased the silhouette of a police officer behind the words Virtue and Order – Take The Step Today, followed by a website too long to remember.