Suddenly the entire steel screen in front of us moved with a drawn-out scrape that set my teeth grinding, and The Lady of the Hatch appeared from behind it, leaving a gap a little wider than her hips.
She was in a police uniform but was pushing the boundaries of dress code: metal badges adorned every inch of her shirt, and she wore fluorescent plastic bangles. I wondered if she'd confiscated them from baked-up clubbers in La Perla Negra.
She spread her arms toward the office space behind the steel. "I'm Officer Ortiz, sweetie. Do you wanna come through? "And," she stared at Will, "your...friend too?"
His face had taken on a gray tone, like he was about to puke. "Sure."
The three of us shuffled through the gap in the steel before Officer Ortiz slammed it shut.
Behind the shutter, I was pleasantly surprised that Este's police office was a mass of glass-fronted meeting rooms, open-plan workstations and stylish office space. A few officers were busy talking on phones as Officer Ortiz led us to her workstation, a magpie's nest of fluorescent stationery and kawaii trinkets.
She motioned to us to sit while she flipped up the lid of her battered L.K. laptop, then hastily closed a browser displaying an online store selling vaping paraphernalia, before opening what looked like a police database.
"Were you both in the building on Plaza del Este?"
"No. Will came in and rescued me, then drove me here," I said.
"That was very brave." Officer Ortiz eyed Will's sooty face with wonder, like she thought him incapable of saving himself from anything, leave alone a gangland sex worker from a raging fire. "So, sweetie, what's your full name and address?"
"My name is Jun-su Park. My address is eighteen Daehak-ro, Saha-gu, Busan."
When was the last time I'd said my address out loud? Apart from the occasional Korean client, I hadn't spoken in my own language for years. It sounded comforting yet unfamiliar, like I'd need to get used to hearing Korean in my own voice again.
"How about you type that all in there for me, sweetie?" Officer Ortiz thrust her laptop at me. "There's space for your Mom's name, your address, medical stuff." She gestured to the lower part of the screen. I scrolled down, and down. It was a long-ass form to fill in. I carried on typing. "Do you need a medical examination, sweetie?"
"We breathed in a lot of smoke but we're OK." I smiled thankfully at Will, who stared back at me with terrified eyes, like a soot-streaked gazelle ready to spring outta the building at any second.
"I meant just for you," the officer said quietly. "In case they...hurt you."
Shibal.
I fixed my gaze at my slippered feet. No clients had ever hurt me like that. And nobody in Sigma would ever hurt rental assets. Not unless they wanted Cal to put a bullet in them. Cal and Jones were the only ones allowed to hurt me, and I'd never given them reason to. Until now.
"I'm not hurt."
Officer Ortiz didn't look convinced, but let it go. "Do you need a change of clothes?" She scanned my unconventional attire of dressing gown, slippers and green hoodie, then smiled sagely at Will sitting bare-armed and fidgety in his flimsy T-shirt with a band's tour dates on it. "Very chivalrous of you."
"I really could do with some clothes, Officer Ortiz."
"Just call me Teresa...Jun-su? She squinted at my name typed on her laptop screen.
"Actually, everyone just calls me Zeph."
"OK, Zeph! So how about we email your Mom and tell her you're OK?"
YOU ARE READING
The Sigma Asset 🏳️🌈 (bxb)║AMBYS WINNER 2022
Mystery / Thriller**AMBYS 2022 WINNER** He'll never play piano again. That's what virtuoso pianist Zephyr has vowed to himself after escaping Sigma, the sprawling criminal organisation that once held him--and still holds his friends--captive in California's mega-city...
3: The Debt
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