"What?" My head is spinning. "Why?"
Her eyes lock with mine. "Because if you don't, I will put forward this evidence and have you arrested for the murder of Tom Campbell. You will serve life in prison, and that baby," she points at my stomach, "will be brought up in foster care." I swallow hard.
"I'm not going to let Jude take the fall for something I did," I choke, trying to conceal my weakness.
"Oh, honey." She huffs a small laugh. "He's going down either way. I have him on money laundering, illegal gambling, extortion, perverting the course of justice. I have enough to get him for fifteen years, but like I said..." She leans forward in her seat. "I want to nail him to the wall. I need something solid." She sits back again and smooths the front of her jacket. "Your call. You can both go to prison, or you can save yourself and raise your love child." She cocks an eyebrow.
"I've already told the other officers I killed Tom."
She shrugs. "The ramblings of an abused girl suffering from Stockholm syndrome."
My heart is thumping, my breathing labored. I'm going to jail for killing Joe. It seems so unjust, to suffer what I did at the hands of that man, and then go to prison for the rest of my life for killing him.
"If they think I have Stockholm syndrome, then I can plead insanity," I whisper.
"Yes, you can, and they will section you, and take your baby away as soon as it's born." She tilts her head to the side. "I'm giving you options here Miss Devaux. As I said, I care very little about you, it's him I want. I need a witness statement from a girl who he kidnapped. I need the jury to see the man that Jude Pearson really is."
"He's not a bad person..."
Sighing, she rolls her eyes. "Yes, yes, I know. You love him. I guess you really do have Stockholm." She meets my eyes. "In a few months, when you're rotting in a jail cell, and you've gotten over this little thing you have for your captor, you will regret not taking this opportunity."
I shake my head, cutting her off. "No, I won't do it."
Her lips purse, and she pauses for a moment, drumming her fingers over the desk. "I tell you what, I'll give you a week. Go home, be with your family, and think about the fact that Jude Pearson is a criminal who kidnapped you. Your loyalties to him are misplaced. Think long and hard about whether you are willing to spend your life behind bars for a man who has killed enough people to serve ten life sentences."
I can't say anything. She has me over a barrel, and she knows it.
She stands up and moves to the door, holding it open for me. I move past her.
"One week." She repeats. I walk away without looking back at her.
“I’ll be in touch.” She calls after me. I keep walking.
Finally, they contact my sister and tell her I'm alive.
I sit in the small family room, staring blankly at the TV on the wall. I used to want nothing more than to go back to my old life, to see my sister, to go back to my job. Now though, I can't think, I can't feel. My sister seems like the distant memory of someone else, someone who hasn't seen and experienced all I have, someone untainted by the darkness that now clings to the edges of my world.
A few minutes later and the door clicks open. The shrink from earlier steps into the room, an overbearing smile on her face. "Victoria, your sister is here. Would you like me to bring her in?"
I hate this, the tiptoeing around as if I'm some fragile abuse victim. I nod mutely. I have to get this over with at some point. The woman disappears and then my sister is walking into the room.
"Oh, Ria!" Just the sound of that name on her lips makes me flinch. I've come to associate it with Caleb.
I should be thrilled to see her, happy to be back with the only family I have left. When did the people who ripped me away from her become my family?
Lizzy throws her arms around my neck, sobs wracking her body. I feel... I don't know... the tug of old memories, pulling at the edges of my mind. I wrap my arms around her.
"I can't believe it. I thought you were dead." She pulls back, her tear filled eyes meeting mine.
I'm not sure what to say. Her eyes study my face, searching for traces of emotion. "Are you... are you okay?"
"Yeah, I'm fine." As fine as I could possibly be right now. I don't know how much they've told her.
Her eyes flick downward and fix on my throat, on the ugly scar that runs six inches across it, then lower to the small bump stretching my shirt. She swallows hard, her eyebrows pinching together. "Ria—"