Chapter 2: New York

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“Fine,” he said, setting down his mug. “How would you like to tell your side of the story?”

She cleared her throat before setting down her own mug. “Okay then, where should I start...oh yeah! I'm innocent.”

“But the fingerprints--”

“I lived there.”

“Opportunity--”

“Where’s your motiv?”

“Weapon was--”

“Supposedly in my bag. Anyone could’ve put it there.”

“The pills--”

“For a friend--no, not a customer.”

“You ran--”

“Wouldn’t you?”

“Why’d you run?”

“I panicked.”

“Only guilty people run.”

“What kind of cop are you?”

He sighed in defeat, shaking his head. “What were you, on the debate team?”

She chuckled. “No, you see, I was kinda wrongly convicted of murder when I was thirteen so I never got the luxury to go to high school. I barely even went to school anyways.”

“Why is that?”

She paused, and Reynolds thought he had finally caught her by surprise, thinking she might spill something. But she looked at the ground, a mixture of nervousness and perhaps shame shadowing her features. “New subject,” she said, messing with her hands, and he paused, thinking of what to say next.

“What’s your favorite color?”

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They were escorted from the plane to a car by two police officers; Reynolds sat in the passenger’s seat, Piper sitting in the back with the two policemen on either side of her. The driver wore dark shades that made Piper wonder if he was looking at her through the rear-view mirror, or the road in front of him as he pulled out of the airport. The drive wasn’t too long, though awkward for Piper, being small and thin and having to be sandwiched between two tall, buff, men who stared straight ahead the entire time.

When the car stopped, they had reached a tall building with countless windows and glass doors. “This is where we’re staying?" asked Piper, and Reynolds nodded.

"What about the giants?” she asked, nodding her head in the direction of the Police officers.

“Only escorting us to and from the trial.”

She nodded. “When is that again?”

“Tomorrow starting at noon.”

“Great,” she said as they entered the building.

As soon as they did, they were approached by a middle-aged woman with red hair and bright red lipstick, and as she smiled, Piper couldn't help but wonder how many times she had rehearsed it over and over, thinking that perhaps she now had a permanent smile plastered across her face.

"Hello, my name is Edna, how may I help you?" she asked, and Reynolds straightened out his suit, a professional stance to him.

"We've already made reservations ahead of time," he told her and she nodded.

"Right this way, please," she said, leading them over to the front desk, where they were given their key with the room number dangling from the key-chain. When they reached the elevator, Reynolds shooed away the two policemen, and they waited by the glass doors, stationed there whenever Piper was to be at the hotel.

They rode the elevator in silence, the red numbers reflecting off the metallic silver walls as they went up, up, up. When they reached the sixth floor, the elevator dinged, and they stepped out into the hallway that smelled like air fresheners, And no doubt had a few hiding in the fake plants. When they reached their room, Reynolds swiped the key car- and the door clicked, putting a hand on the knob and turning.

The door opened up into the kitchen which composed of tile flooring, a counter-top, a refrigerator, a sink, a small dishwasher, above that, a microwave, a toaster, and a stove. Next to the fridge was a pantry filled with flour, olive oil, bread, and a few other items. Opening the fridge, Reynolds found a gallon of milk, eggs, and a few condiments.

Piper ran her fingers along the surface of the counter-top, moving away from the kitchen into the living area consisting of a sofa, an ugly dark green rug, and a small TV. On one wall was the door to the bathroom, a closet next to it filled with towels and cheesy board games. On another wall was the a room, next to it hung some painting of colors and shapes; no doubt abstract art--something Piper had never understood.

“I’ll take the couch,” Piper said, falling into the plush beige cushions dramatically, though she was truly tired, not receiving any sleep that night, yet again. It wasn’t that she couldn’t, because she could’ve fallen asleep just by closing her eyes, it was that she wouldn’t. She hated the nightmares that came with the action of closing her eyes, because even though it had been over four years, she still dreamed of the inflictions her father had given her when he was drunk or angry. Including the time when he got really drunk, but Piper tried not to think about that.

Reynolds went into the spare room and set down his briefcase and his luggage before removing his jacket, undoing his tie as well. He slipped off his swede shoes and opened his door a crack, calling out to Piper. “I’m going to hit the hay, so don’t leave while I’m asleep, okay?”

“Sure thing,” Piper said, smiling to herself as he went back into the room. But she had every intention of disobeying his orders.

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