Can You Feel It?

11.

EREX

The seated woman met my eyes, swallowing thickly. Her dark eyes carried a look I was already familiar with. And it hit me with the force of a dozen bricks, but I steeled myself against it.

"Your side of the story, Miss."

"What's the use? I'm still going to be considered a murderer." 

The dark-haired woman probably intended to make her voice emotionless, but instead, there was a thread of hopeless hysteria that carried over. Her brown eyes reflected a broken soul that had tried to break out of something toxic, only to be faced with a fate just as bad.

Her son jumped down, and her eyes flashed, "Darius!"

"Are you blind?" The boy stared up at me, his face reflecting fury. "Can't you see she's hurt? She's suffering, and you want to...to...to send her to jail?" He frowned.

Amella grabbed his arm and pulled him towards her, "Silenzio, Darius." She berated him in italian, her expression one of pleading. "Per favore."

I understood her perfectly well, considering Italian was my first language, but I let them keep that semblance of privacy. I could respect that.

I could respect her, and I could respect her relationship with her son.

She winced and pulled back. Her arm was colored in purple. Red hand prints peeked out, and Darius' eyes softened before he re-adjusted the blankets around her until she was wrapped up entirely like a human burrito.

My lips twitched slightly. It was a pure act from someone who had probably been subjected to harsh realities way before his age. His affection and care for his mother at such a young age was admirable.

Darius was.......like looking into a mirror.

I swallowed past the lump in my throat and maintained a neutral expression as I addressed the wife again. "The case can be ruled in your favor if it was done in self-defense."

She chuckled, her eyes meeting mine as she shook her head hopelessly. "I've lived here in this country for thirty-seven years. I know my fate."

And as much as I hated to admit it, the chances that Amella could come out of this unscathed were very low. Still, I needed information, and an interrogation would take place nonetheless.

"I'm afraid we have to get your statement before anything else can happen. The FBI has taken over the case." I flashed my card before sliding it back into my pocket.

Darius' grey eyes whipped to his mother's. "Are they going to send me away from you, Mom? I don't want that. You'll be okay." Desperation crept in.

Amella patted his head, a soft, sad smile on her lips, "Credere, il mio sole."

Believe, my sun.

Then she nodded, "I'll tell you everything, of course."

A Social Worker was standing off to the side, and she stepped up, smiling at the mother and son.

"It'll be alright. Come on, Darius. I'll take you to a good place for tonight. You should get some food and rest, hm?"

The urge to shatter the pipe dreams she'd build for this unsuspecting child was strong, but I held back and took a deep breath. "You should go with her, kid."