What will Diane think of me now?
My secret is out. I saw the flash of recognition in her eyes before she wiped her face clean of emotion.
She knows that I am the daughter of Marcia Quintana. She knows that I am a Quintana, a family enemy for generations. I am the daughter of the woman who has picked out her death date.
She'll know how often I lied to her.
Does she understand why I did?
I can't tell as she speaks to my mother. Her calm, innocent responses have my mother furious, more than Diane could ever tell.
My mother says, "We are here because we believe you committed many crimes. Do you know what they are?"
"No. Like my father, I try to follow the law."
"You think your father followed the law?"
She blinks at my mother, "Why would you say that in past tense?"
I swear every set of eyes swivel to stare at my mother. Did she tell the other Assembly members the same story she told me? That Diane's father escaped the jail?
My mother snaps, "I will be asking the questions right now."
Diane says, "Okay."
"Do you know what crimes you have committed?"
"Something tells me that by the way you keep refusing to tell me what I actually did, it means that I didn't do anything. You just want me to admit to something. You want to scare me. You want to harass me just like you did with my father."
My mother pushes her chair back and stands. She slowly pushes her chair in and stands behind it. It's one of her intimidation tactics against the people she's questioning. She's done this to me more times than I count. Watching her slowly stand and push her chair, all while she holds your stare, is enough for some people to curl into a ball of tears.
Diane just raises an eyebrow.
My mother leans over her chair to rest her hands on the table, so that she can stare at Diane. "We never harrassed your father. Please understand that."
Diane blinks, "If you say so. He had to miss a lot of time that we planned to spend together to go to your meetings. Whenever he came home from a business meeting, we would plan board games and movie nights and visits to museums and zoos, but we always had to cancel them. There was always something for him to do with you. I'm not blaming you, I just..."
My mother, "It's your father's own fault for messing with the law."
Diane doesn't say anything. She knows how angry my mother is. It appears that she knows just how far she can push my mother and back away right before she snaps. It took me years to perfect the system, but Diane is a natural.
My mother says, "I have had enough of you. This meeting is over. You may go. I would be careful if I were you."
Diane frowns, "That's it? I kind of wanted to find out what crime you were accusing me of. I thought it would be somewhere along being related to my grandfather, but I wasn't sure."
"We judge each person for their own actions, not for anyone that might be related to them."
Diane has the audacity to laugh at my mother.
My mother leans into Diane's face, "Do you want to punished, little girl?"
"No. Not particularly."
"Then I suggest you keep your mouth shut."
"But I got a whole lecture from the guards before I came in here that I should always answer your questions or..." Diane is coming dangerously close to my mother snapping. I don't know why she is doing this. My mother already has a death date picked out after all. Wouldn't she try to cool her anger rather than help it grow?
My mother slams her hand on the table. "I am done with this. We will reschedule this meeting for next Wednesday."
It's the first time Diane flinches the entire meeting.
My mother stands and strides out of the room. I hesitantly follow after her, not risking a glance back at Diane.
I make a promise to call her later, though I don't know if it will ever happen. I doubt she'll answer me if I try.
My mother marches all the way to the car and slams the door behind her. I get in on the other side and sit as far away as possible. I don't know what she is going to do next, but it can't be good. I prepare myself for a screaming rant with curses and slamming hands on the seat.
Instead, my mother begins to cry.
I stiffen. How am I supposed to handle this?
I hesitantly say, "What's wrong?"
"That family has been a thorn in our family's side forever. This doesn't just go back to my father. We have always disagreed, always argued. I don't think it's possible for this argument to ever end."
"What if you stopped calling them to meetings? Just let them live their life. I'm sure there are worse peoples out there."
"No one on the Assembly will ever take me seriously as long as the Tinsleys continue to disrespect me. Do you know how much they gossip about these meetings? I thought this one would be a good thing. From what I heard about this girl from my friends, she barely talked to anyone and practically hid whenever there was a party."
I remember the way Diane looked during the one party I went to. She did seem to be avoiding conversation, but she had the terrifying glare on her face the entire time. I thought she looked intimidating, not timid.
My mother says, "I thought this would be great. I would yell at this little girl who could never speak for herself. She would admit to some petty crime that she did. I would be able to punish her and we would be done. I would have a victory. Maybe the rest of the Assembly wouldn't see me as the woman that the Tinsleys always managed to screw over. Instead, I somehow end up with this intelligent girl who can twist the questions around. Why didn't my scouts tell me about that?"
My mother's voice cracks, "Why couldn't I just have one victory? Just one?"
I don't think about the victory she must have felt when she killed Diane's father. Was that not enough?
Will Diane's death be enough? Is that the final victory?
My mother wipes away the tears from the back of her hand and says, "I know that it must have been hard for you to come to this meeting. That's why I brought you. You need to learn to harden yourself against people you know. The people you think are friends or seem like good people, they don't care about you. No one cares about you. Not when you are on the Assembly. It's all hidden motives, Julia, all of it. They just want a tax deduction or a paradon for some silly crime that isn't near worth your time. Nobody cares about you. Nobody sees you. They just see your position, your power. I hope you are ready for being a politician because it isn't nearly as easy as it seems."
I never thought it was easy but here is my mother outlining all of my fears. I talk about these things all the time with Carlotta and Rosalina, but they always tell me I'm being worrisome. But here is my mother telling me everything that I had feared is true.
My mother says, "And you talked to Diane at the party, right? About what happened to her father? You lied and said that he was killed by a guard in the jail?"
I nod.
"I thought she would have responded more. That's another reason that I brought you here. You had told her something confidential, so naturally she should have trusted you. To see the one person that you thought had helped you in your meeting room, that should have shocked her. That should have set her off guard. But it didn't. Why not?"
Apparently I was there just as a piece of manipulation.
I say, "I don't know. Maybe she didn't recognize me without pink hair. She probably didn't pay a bunch of attention to my face when we were talking. Even if she had, I doubt she would have said anything."
My mother just shakes her head, "Today was a mistake. A total mistake."
"No. You learned a lot. You learned that she was an opponent, not some vulnerable girl. You will prepare yourself and bring her down on Wednesday."
I feel bad for saying this, but I know that this is what my mother is thinking. She would tell me this nearly every time some girl was mean to me. Of course, I didn't form a death plan against the person, but my mother didn't pass on all of her ideas.
My mother nods, "Thank you. That was what I needed to hear."
She squeezes my hands and any trace of emotions fades from her face. She turns back into the hard, unemotional woman I like to call my mother.
Later, after my mother has long since disappeared into her office, I brave my disposable phone. I need to call Diane. I don't know what she has to say. I don't know if she will even answer.
But I need to talk ther.
I need to at least explain to her why I lied. I knew the history between our families. While I don't necessarily agree with all the drama, I didn't know if she did. If she learned of my last name, she would have never talked to me at that party. I need to come clean.
I'll tell her everything.
Yes, I am Marcia Quintana's daughter. Yes, I lied about my identity, but my name is Julia. Yes, I did pretend to know nothing about politics. Yes, I was sitting in my own bedroom when I was hacking my mother's computer, not at some party. Yes, I know about the city guard because my mother told me. Actually, I broke into her office.
I will tell the truth.
Except...that my mother is the murderer.
I can't, right? Family before all else. If I don't have family loyalty, what do I have? If I can't trust even my family, who else is there?
If Diane knew that my mother killed her father, I have no doubt that she would go to the authorities. And I wouldn't blame her.
So if I tell my mother and she is arrested, it will be all my fault.
I dial Diane's number.
It rings and rings and rings.
And then she picks up. I hear the click and soft, almost inaudible breathing, but she doesn't say anything.
I speak first, "Diane?"
She takes a slow breath. "Hello, Julia Quintana."