Chapter Twenty-Three

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April


In a lounge, the vaulting is fashioned into extraordinary designs of roses. Chandeliers dazzling, the laced curtains are drawn apart. One of the housekeepers enters with a tray, settling it on the extravagant table. Tea, coffee, juices, biscuits and sandwiches. The kind, redhead woman places a ceramic cup in front of me. "Turmeric water, ma'am."

I take a sip, desiring something non-sugary, non-caffeine, something herbal and bitter and soothing.

Luke went to Greece for a business meeting. My parents are here. Ethan and Rose are with Derek and Tanner, somewhere in the Manor, probably in the gardens to visit the deers. Bella is cuddled in my lap, her cat eyes a starting mixture of turquoise green and sea-blue. She clawed my jeans and halter-shirt with her beans as she mounted, balling in my right juncture.

I would have expected the detectives to dispute Marlene's expertise as a lawyer — she has not been assigned to any cases for years, too busy leading her brother-in-law's organisation. Here she is, poised next to me.

"We should be at the police station for this," says Dad.

Detective Morris is a middle-aged man. Dark hair, brown eyes. "Bodie Banks has raised scrutiny in the department. April also asked to do it anywhere but there."

"I don't trust them that much," I explained at Dad's look. Mum's racial-invoked arrest, the possibility that they could be working for my ex-friends' parents ... So many reasons.

I remember Detective Bravon. He questioned me earlier this autumn, about Bodie Banks and the attack he faced. It was a period that encouraged me to come forward to Mum about Roy. He has not changed in these past three months or so. His beard that was once unruly is neatly trimmed, his afro still beguilingly dishevelled and tight of miniature coils. "You woke up so recently. Are you sure you want to do this?"

"I'm ready."

I told them how I met Roy. The weird things he said that I haven't found strange first-hand.

Oh, you're April.

Heard about me, I guess?

He laughed. You got quite the reputation here.

For his birthday party, he was delirious. Camila was racist to me. I went to Roy's garden for fresh air, where I saw Bodie Banks. Bodie told me to be careful, that You are who you surround yourself with and You attract what you are. He told me that my friends, Camila and Aasvhi, were cruel, and that they —

"Raped him?" echoes Detective Morris.

"Yes. I even heard the girls talking about it in the girls' locker room." I detect the change of their expressions. "What?"

Detective Bravon taps the end of his ball-point pen. "You're aware of a lot of things, which means you can be involved in a lot of trials. Bodie Banks is currently a 'trending' name. He now represents those who have been brutalised and marginalised by the law and its associates for his race, his class, and the intersectionality of both. If the media acknowledges your position in this, they could harass you for answers. They could, also, intimidate you for being quiet."

"Do I have to participate in the trials?"

"We insist," replies Morris. "The cases will receive justice a lot more easily if you consent."

"You do not have to," says Marlene. "Though I advise you to consider your attendance. You are the first person Bodie Banks moved to, the first person he hoped for peace —"

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