Phoenix

Interrogation

The office was cold and sparse, so lacking in personality that even the plain grey desk and business blue chair, the only two furnishings in the room, looked as though they'd had a disagreement. A complex grid of computer screens hung from one wall, displaying a mosaic of security footage from all areas of the orphanage.

Ash caught a glimpse of herself in the far right one and scrunched her nose. A feral animal stared back at her, neither markedly boy nor girl, with amber eyes that glowed between her mane of matted black hair and grimy olive skin. Her appearance was no alibi for a suspected murderer. She understood now why the orphan boy had called her a rat.

Director Wilson sat at her desk, lips pinched, hands strung in a reptilian fashion, wooden eyes flat as veneer. Despite her grey-speckled hair, her unlined face had a timeless quality, as though the elements had seen her stern glare and run the other way. In all her years at the orphanage, Ash couldn't remember a time when she looked any different.

"Orphan 984—Ashalia Valesca." She opened Ash's file and her eyes scanned the contents. It was a tatty paper file. Definitely in need of an upgrade. "I trust you're feeling better."

A statement. Ash didn't answer.

Ms Wilson leaned forward and pressed her fingers together to form a diamond. "This is the third day in a row you've failed to make quota. Normally, we'd be looking at a short stint in solitary for such a transgression."

Ash nodded. She knew the rules. She'd been inside of the solitary housing unit one too many times, mainly for fighting, but once for back-talking a guard. It was torture. If it wasn't the constant hunger held at bay only by a small bowl of daily broth, it was the boredom. One hour could bleed into the next without so much as a new thought to mark it. She knew every inch of the tiny windowless cell, the amount of sponge on the padded sound-proofed walls and the exact pitch her piss made in the egg-shaped relief tray. Nothing she'd ever done was worth the time in solitary.

But for once, she felt differently. Solitary confinement seemed a small price to pay when compared with a lifetime in state jail.

Emmeline was still talking. "... however, given the circumstances, we're willing to overlook your indiscretion should you assist with our investigation."

Ash stopped nodding.

Ms Wilson's heels clicked on the polished concrete floor as she rounded her desk. "Valesca, did you notice anything strange this afternoon? Did you see anything out of place while you were collecting?"

Ash hesitated. Then, shook her head.

Ms Wilson leaned forward and narrowed her wooden eyes to stakes. "Nothing at all?"

She continued shaking her head.

Ms Wilson was so close Ash could smell her perfume, which was heavy and bruised, like a rose petal crushed between the fingers. "You were found by our guards a little way up the street, unconscious. Do you remember how you got there?"

Ash shook her head so vigorously now, her neck threatened to seize up.

Ms Wilson studied her a moment longer, expression inscrutable. "What a shame. I was under the impression you'd be able to shed some light on an incident that occurred in your collection zone this afternoon." She turned and plucked another tatty file from her desk and held up a printed photo of the gangly orphan. It was an old photo. Taken over a year ago when they'd last updated their portfolios. His mousey hair was slicked to the side, and he was grinning at the camera. Still, the angle of his smile was as wrong as it had been on the street. It was too wide, too thin, verging on manic.

Ash's palms began to sweat. Was this a trick? Did Ms Wilson already know what she'd done? Was this all a test to see if she'd tell the truth?

Ms Wilson shook the photo for emphasis. "This is Eric. He didn't turn up for Count and we've come to believe he's gone missing." She paused to gauge Ash's reaction.

Ash forced her eyebrows into an archway of mild surprise.

Ms Wilson continued, "The police are investigating his disappearance. They wanted to question you on the circumstances surrounding your... collapse. Seemed to think the two incidents could be related."

Ash clamped her lips. What was Ms Wilson playing at? Did she know? Didn't she know?

"I told them to let me deal with you. Incidents like yours should be dealt with inside the orphanage." Ms Wilson leaned down and pinched Ash's left sleeve, just above the wrist, lifting it as one would lift the soiled nappy of a baby. Beneath, the horizontal marks where the orphan had scratched her were now beginning to form angry scabs. "An attempt on one's own life is nothing short of selfish. You have disrespected this institution and everything we've done for you."

Ash's eyes widened with realisation. The Director thought she'd tried to kill herself. Despite the gravity of the implication, she'd been handed the perfect alibi. She drew a relieved breath, which she upturned into a sigh of feigned remorse. "I'm sorry, it won't happen again."

Ms Wilson glared. "Your apology means nothing. We nursed you back to health for the sake of an investigation which you've proved to be useless. Don't think we'll do it again." She turned to the guard. "How much longer until she must be returned to her room?"

The guard checked his watch. "Lights out is in twenty."

Ms Wilson swivelled on the point of her heel and rounded her desk again. She stopped to press a red-painted finger against Ash's file. And tapped. "It says here Valesca, you turned eighteen this year." To the guard. "How long until the next Release Day?"

"Just over a month."

Ms Wilson's finger stilled. "Move it forward. I don't want her under our care if and when she decides to try something... regrettable again. We don't have resources to waste on the ungrateful, nor do we have time for the paperwork." She nodded at Ash. "She's more trouble than she's worth."

The guard stepped forward. "When would you like the new release date?"

Ms Wilson's lips folded into a line. "Tomorrow."

The guard shook his head. "With all due respect, Ms Wilson, the recruiters will never agree to —"

"Let me handle the recruiters. You just worry about their Release Day packages."

"The packages won't arrive for another couple of weeks."

Ms Wilson lowered her forehead, then her shoulders, then her voice. Everything about her was hunkered up and weighted forward. "Are you capable of carrying out a simple order or should I reconsider your position as head guard of this orphanage?"

The guard hung his head. "Of course. The packages will be ready by morning."

Ms Wilson swivelled in her chair so that her whole body was angled away from them, intent on the security footage. But Ash thought she saw a flicker of something in her gaze as she turned, something verging on confusion. Or was it concern? As quickly as it had come, it was gone. They'd been dismissed.

The guard dragged Ash away and she let out the breath he didn't realise she was holding. She'd never been so glad to be forcibly removed from anywhere before. Still, the relief was short-lived.

Tomorrow.

Her stomach lurched.

Tomorrow, she would be released from the orphanage, along with all the other orphans who'd turned eighteen that year. Recruiters from all over the city would be coming to appraise them for their suitability for work. If they weren't deemed fit for hard labor, they'd be left to their own devices on the streets. And the streets of Ace made the orphanage look as tame as an overfed lion with its claws clipped.

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Hey all! Do we think Ms Wilson knows what Ash did?