Lights | A Forever Fanfiction

Chapter Sixteen: Never To be Told

"Okay, so what have I done?" I demanded. "I'm underage. I demand for you to bring my godmother here."

"Miss LaVaughn, hacking is a felon - computer trespassing is strictly illegal," Detective Devereux said, sitting down across from me. "As for your godmother, she has been notified. Jo seemed quite upset, so let's make this whole process easier on all of us. Why would you steal sensitive files on criminals?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about," I lied. "I didn't-"

"Hack into our database? Steal secure files on multiple people under surveillance? Let me ask you - what is your association with the organisation known as the Maverick?" Devereux frowned at me condescendingly. "Look, kid-"

"I haven't touched a single file related to the Maverick, nor do I know who the heck they are. Who are they?" I asked. "Is this connected to the murder of my father?"

"Don't play the innocent role with me, kid. I know-" His phone buzzed suddenly, and I jumped slightly. He answered the call, lifting the phone to his ear and leaving the room with a huff.

A few minutes later, the door slammed open, and a very angry Detective Devereux stormed in, fury radiating from his every pore. "Miss LaVaughn, you're being release. Don't leave town, or else."

"I don't understand," I said.

"Your godmother attested to your alibi. You were in her hospital room at seven thirty-nine last night. Just because your alibi checks out doesn't mean you didn't do it!" Devereux snapped, holding open the door. "Our security system picked up the IP of a computer that tried to hack us again this morning. It went straight to the cafe we found you at."

"Wait, what's going to happen to Henry Morgan?" I demanded, standing up. "He didn't try to kill anyone. He was helping me."

"He is a ruthless murderer, Miss LaVaughn. I suggest you stay away from him. I always knew there was something wrong with him. The way he knows everything about these cases... probably because he is a murderer. He is a part of the organisation known as the Maverick, which is a terrorist group in New York. Your mother was a part of it, but she was just a mascot." He sneered at me, and I felt disgust and hatred boil up within me. I shoved past him, firmly taking a seat at one of the benches just past the reception desk.

About thirty minutes later, Hanson walked out of the other interrogation room, a look of concern creased into his face. He saw me, and sorrow crossed his features.

"Lights-" he began.

"What has Henry done?" I demanded. "Doctor Morgan was with me almost the entire time. He couldn't have attempted to murder my mother, because he was with me at the crime scene thingy at my apartment. Reece can attest to that. And I'm sure he couldn't have murdered my father, either. He must have an alibi or something-"

"Lights," Hanson repeated. "Henry had the bubonic plague. We found the DNA of a person who had it under your father's nails. That speaks for itself, don't you think?" I frowned and shook my head, remembering what Dr. Morgan had said. I trusted him. I trusted him.

"I don't believe it. Look into his alibi and let him go!" I snapped. "Go on! Talk to Reece! She can prove everything! Besides, he would never- You know him, Hanson!" Helplessness washed over me like a steady, heavy rainfall, pounding down on me and making me want to run away.

"I know, Lights, but you have to admit-"

"No, I don't! I trust him! Where's your faith in your friends?! Where's your loyalty?!" My words scathed him. He flinched, visibly. Sharp pain ricocheted through me. I felt badly - Dr. Morgan was in trouble, I was being awful to Hanson, and Devereux was a total arse. There was nothing I could do. Something inside of me broke.

"Lights, Henry is a good man. I haven't lost faith in him. It's just hard to believe someone, when something like that crops up. I mean, how many people have had the bubonic plague, in New York?"

"Lewis Farber," I said quietly.

"Who?"

"Lewis Farber, MD. Psychiatrist at Bellevue." The words slipped forwards, the searing claws of my betrayal striking, tearing, scraping at my insides. "He had the plague. He works from 8AM to 5:30PM. If you go there, you can catch him. His DNA might match that of the DNA found under my father's nails. Doctor Morgan's... Well, soon enough you'll discover that it won't match his DNA. Besides... I trust him. I. Trust. Him.

"Wha- How do you know this?"

I glared at Hanson. "Maybe I just do! Maybe I just know these things. Maybe I don't need a psychiatrist. Maybe my mother is insane and my father is dead. Maybe I'm just thirteen, but I'm the youngest person in my grade, by two years. That should say enough about my intelligence." I sat back down with a quiet oomph, my little forceful monologue having taken most of the energy out of me. Suddenly, Hanson's phone rang, and he picked it up, walking a few paces away. He returned moments later, a look of great skepticism crossing his face.

"That was the lab. Guess who was right?" Hanson pocket his phone. "Come on, let's go get Henry out, shall we?"

"Okay," I replied happily, standing upright. Hanson smiled lazily as I followed him to the interrogation room. Jacobs was in there, yelling and waving his arms. Hanson went inside, his calm facade breaking. Devereux glowered at Hanson, and snapped something. Hanson grabbed his arm and they broke into an argument. Dr. Morgan looked amused, glancing through the wire-lined door at me. He waved as best as he could, since the handcuffs chaining him to the table were limiting his mobility. I waved back, grinning, as Hanson removed Dr. Morgan's handcuffs. Dr. Morgan rose and left the room, leaving the two detectives to argue.

"Hey, Doc," I said. "Nice day, huh?"

"Indeed," he replied. "Positively wonderful."

Just then, Hanson and Devereux stopped bickering for a moment and checked their phones. Looks of horror and confusion passed over their faces and they rushed out of the room, panickedly getting their guns and badges from locked drawers in their desks. Then, they ran into another room, emerging moments later wearing full Kevlar.

"What was that, just now?" I asked, as more police officers and detectives rushed to their desks and retrieved their weapons and put on Kevlar vests. I stared at the chaos as Reece stepped out of her office, panic flaring in her usually placid eyes.

"An emergency. Lights, Dr. Morgan, we're placing you in protective custody," Reece stated. "You need to come with us. There's a severe emergency in Manhattan. I'm not authorised to tell you what it is, but Officer O'Malley and Officer Yang will take care of you for a little while." Reece turned to the mass of moving staff members. "Yang! O'Malley!" Two officers slipped out of the fray and jogged over. "You two will be watching over LaVaughn and Doctor Morgan." The female one groaned. The other one grinned. They led us away, down the stairs, and to an armoured truck. We were shepherded into the back, and the two officers got into the front. The truck jolted to a start, and we were driven away to some unknown place, probably never to return.