12

                                    

                                          
Liza's POV
My head is fucking pounding. How is this possible? I turned on the TV today and saw Taylor's disgusting face. Turns out she's managed to get charges off of her, and now she's free. Police want to question me in a few hours. I can't possibly imagine what kind of crazy bullshit she made up about me. I thought everything was perfect. I rest my head on David's shoulder.
                          
"What are we gonna do?"
                          
"Tell the truth."
                          
"Of course! But she probably twisted around the situation to make it seem like I lied. I thought this was over."
                          
"Relax. You're gonna tell the police exactly what happened. Answer their questions respectfully. The. You're gonna leave because they'll believe you. And if somehow those police find a reason to arrest you, I'll do everything in my power to set you free."
                          
"I love you so much."
                          
David laughs and kisses me on the forehead.  
                          
"I love you too."
                          
We stay like that for a while - me curled up, halfway in David's lap and the bath of us on his beige couch. 
I wish I could stay in that moment forever. Worry free even though I might be getting arrested in a few minutes. I kiss David on the cheek. 
                          
"I have to go. I'll see you later, ok?"
                          
He nods. I grab my coat and bag and head out. The chilly autumn air smell so good this time of year. I get in my car and drive to the police station. 
                          
"Ms Koshy?"
                          
"Ms Dobrikova, actually. But yes. You can just call me Liza." 
                          
"Right, sorry. This way."
                          
He guides me to a small room with a hanging light. I didn't think this was a real interrogation. It looks just like Law and Order. The ominous lighting makes my heart kick up a notch. A mysterious machine sits at the edge of the table. 
                          
"Please, have a seat."
                          
I slide out the metal chair, making an awful screech that echoes across the room. The man paces around, unfazed by the sound. 
                          
"We're going to be hooking you up to a heart rate monitor. It's just to make sure you're telling the truth - the whole truth."
                          
I nod my head and gulp. My hands quiver a little when he puts two long, ring like pieces of an itch material around my fingers. I can feel the metal of the monitor pressing ever so slightly on my knuckles. 
                          
"So, Liza. We recently had a young woman come in to accuse you of first degree man slaughter on four accounts. Is there anything you'd like to say about this?" 
                          
The monitor catches my heart rate speeding up. It lets out a small beep. 
                          
"Two. Two people. And I was roofied. She... she put some crazy shit in my drink. And she told me to do it. I didn't want to kill them."
                          
My hands are shaking so bad that the wires tap softly at the machine. 
                          
"Ok. What, exactly, did Ms Umbridge tell you to do?"
                          
"She said to go after them. To find them and to terminate them. She told me this while I was sober. But then she drugged me and told me to do it again. It was two different times. The first one... it was a few years ago. She told me that... that he'd..."
                          
The room starts to swirl around me. The world is covered in a light pink haze. The man's face doubles in size. I rip off the monitors and run outside. I put my head between my legs. I can't breathe. My heart is pounding.