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( volume ii, chapter xvii )
behind every mask there is a face
SHERIFF STATION
NOVEMBER 10TH, 2017
RIVERDALE
''Let's talk about the damn deal.'' FP croaked, his expression one of defeat in the stark light of the interrogation room. He pressed his knuckles against his tired face, eyes dry and scratchy.
The attorney sat across him at the steel table, embedding the room into a clinical atmosphere. Mia and Jughead may as well have acted as the scalpels, stood to the side silently. ''First, to review the charges you're facing, arson, destruction of evidence, making a false confession, obstructing justice,'' he listed, flicking through the sheets in front of him, ''not to mention this whole nasty mess of dumping a dead kid in the river.''
''I know what I did,'' Mia's father bit back, ''what's the deal? What are they offering?''
''You're gonna wanna take it,'' he answered, pushing the papers to FP, ''I'm telling you, I've been doing this a long time. It's a strong deal.''
''How many . . . damn . . . years?''
''Twenty.''
Mia's head collapsed into the palms of her hands, anxiety creeping up behind her and wrapping it's claw around stomach, churning and twisting.
༺✧༻
POP'S CHOCK'LIT SHOPPE
NOVEMBER 10TH, 2017
RIVERDALE
''I didn't think you'd come,'' Mia admitted, eyes fixated on the linoleum floor of Pop's, ''not after everything.''
Serena sat across from the blonde, her usual elaborate eye makeup twinkling in the neon lights of the diner. ''I would've come earlier, Mia,'' she smiled sincerely, reaching for her best friend's hand to intertwine with hers, ''it's just that . . . a lot has changed.''
