The Prisoner Project

THIRTY THREE

Confusion washed over my entire being and I felt weak. My knees shook and I braced myself against the wall to keep myself from falling. "But why?" The memories of that night flashed against my eyes and I felt sickened. "God..Jesus..Fuck."

My secret was out. The cat was out the bag. My life was in his hands, and I was the one that had willingly given it to him. "Why would she?"

He remained silent in the midst of my trepidation.

His words didn't make sense to me so I blinked up at him with reddened eyes. "Why should I believe you? I don't even know who she is."

Banshee didn't make a move towards me, his brows tilted a little. His bruised eyes made him look tired. "You don't know or you don't want to know?"

A whispered plea. "Please, Nick."

"For someone so smart..." He heaved a sigh. I noticed him wince when his cuffs glided against his purpling wrist. "I was told you were a prodigy."

"This isn't the time." I muttered.

"Yes, it fucking is." Banshee cut me off so harshly that I gasped. His lips pulled into a annoyed straight line and his eyes found the ceiling. Whatever barriers Banshee had put around his whirlwind emotions were unravelling. "Think, Aria. Use the brain in your thick skull to fucking think." He spat, impatience lacing every syllable. "Who's Mirabel?

Petrified, I shook my head. "God knows I have no idea."

His voice dropped, a complete juxtaposition to the harshness of his earlier words. It was an apology of the mind. "Maybe if we call her M it'll trigger your memory. What does that M mean to you?"

"M?" I whispered.

Who was M? I was aware of how familiar that single letter seemed to me, and I dug deep in my subconscious to check where I had seen that letter in my lif—Oh, God.

For someone who had been a prodigy all her life, it was incomprehensible how the petulant dots hadn't connected quicker for me. I vaguely remembered Diana showing me a perfumed letter with an M on it. It was the day I had realised my Dad was having an affair with another woman. A woman who had signed the letter with an M. 

I hadn't ever seen her. I hadn't ever met her. I just knew she had been the reason my dad left, and I had hated her. But now, the woman had a face. A woman who Banshee was now telling me is Mirabel.

I had spaced out completely, and when I refocused onto Banshee, my eyes were blurry with unshed tears. 

My life was unravelling before my very eyes, and I was losing all my balance. My entire life had been reduced to Jenga in that moment, and Banshee had just pulled out the piece that had kept me standing.

I was a mess.

I glanced at the cameras. "So they were listening."

"No, Aria, I told you before. They weren't the ones listening." He tapped the side of his head, close to his ears that hid underneath his long curls. "I was."

_______

I SLAMMED THE DOOR behind me in a haste and spun to address Frank and fill him in on everything. When I turned my back towards the door, what I saw stopped me in my tracks. I opened my mouth to question the scene before me but no words left my lips. My fight or flight response had deserted me and I could only freeze. Pathetic, as usual.

She wore a pristine white gown that sat below her knees. Her lips were red stained with expensive lipstick, and her hair was coiffed to perfection. She looked beautifully terrifying. A little too put together. A little perfect, a little maniacal.