Mirror, Mirror

01|Mirror, Mirror

"...Sentenced to two months in state-side maximum prison for misuse of body sprays and causing discomfort to proper olfaction."
Judge Judy's voice rang up in my thoughts.

He hadn't read me my Miranda rights, no handcuffs only a black duffel bag strapped around his leather jacket that seemed to conceal more than the badge he'd whipped out earlier.

As if he had read my thoughts,
"I'm not here on official capacity, but your sister is missing, your twin sister." He seemed to add the last part for emphasis.

It takes a few seconds but it finally seeps in, Mia was actually being serious when she sent me that postcard asking for help. I was so swamped with work that I'd shoved it aside after one read. I didn't even give it a second thought. In my head I was the one dealing with real world problems. Was she really in danger? Could I have done anything to help? Did the police think I had something to do with it?
I look back and catch Maeve trying to act like she hadn't been eavesdropping, I never told
her I had a sister or was even a twin. I usually don't tell anybody, they were always one search engine away from finding a cooler, more trendy version of me.

"She's missing? How and Why?"
I try to act oblivious. They can't indict you for a crime you know nothing about. Law and order 101.

Detective Ramires purses his lips into a straight line, his eyes crinkle,
"We know she sent you a postcard..." he pauses again, for emphasis?

"...that was the last thing she mailed, before her sudden disappearance. I would like to know the content of the mail, there could be clues to help us in the investigation."

Shit! Run! Run for your life Claire, out the window and unto the lawn, you could be in Mexico in three days! He knows I just lied about knowing that Mia was in danger, if he didn't already he was about to.

I rake my hands though my disheveled hair and just stayed like that for a close second, trying to place where I'd tossed the postcard the last time I saw it or if I should just claim that I didn't get any mail. But then what if this can somehow find Mia? Help her.
Detective Ramires shakes his head, looking almost puzzled, prolly wondering why I'd not moved in the last sixty seconds.

"Sure, I'll just get it from my locker."
I finally say and strut away from the door.
I catch glaring stares from Maeve, I couldn't read her expression, was she dumbfounded, angry or disappointed, I couldn't tell and that scared me.
"We'd talk about this later, ok?"
I mutter and touch her arm lightly,
...but I really hope we don't have to, let's just act like this never happened;
is what I'd like to say, but knowing Maeve, as soon as this detective was gone she'd be shining the brightest lamp she can find in my face and drilling me with questions.

I reach into my drawer, amidst clusters of jigsaws and Maeve's stevia I pull out the postcard and realize for the first time the levity in which I'd treated the situation. I received a literal SOS from my sister, even strangers helped each other in troubled times but I evidently did nothing to help her, or even contact her to see if she was alright.
My shoulders sink when I see the morbid expression on detective Ramires face as he reads and rereads the content.

"Is this all?" He asks, still peering down alternately between the calligraphed scribble and the picturesque picture of Sicily.
"I know you two we're not that close, and my timing couldn't be any better, but could you join me for coffee, I'd like to explain everything to you."