Chapter Four

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SONG: Ninch Inch Nails - Closer

This song reminds me of Derek soooo much.



Derek Matthews

Detective Brown has been investigating the allegations toward Bodie Banks. Here we are, gathered in a common room in the Manor, with his partner, Detective Morris.

Detective Bravon slides a photograph of a young, Asian man with a strong scruff of a beard. "This is Ishaan Ali."

My lawyers stirred me. Thirty lawyers, in one room.

The name alarms a lightbulb.

"He was murdered by a group of boys."

"In your year." Detective Morris crosses his arms, sleeved of a dotted shirt. "You're not surprised."

"Who are they?"

Morris withdraws several photos, distributing them in front of me.

My jaw grits at their treacherous faces. "Hunar Dash, Rhett Wallace, Miles Tucker, Thiago Onai, Roy Heston ..." I list the names, the disgust roughening.

Bravon gulps his ice-cold water. His beard is thick, his afro stunning. Smacking his lips together, wiping the water off his lips, "Roy Heston is imprisoned. Charlotte Marin added years to his sentence —"

"Charlotte Marin is solved?" one of my lawyers asks.

"We concluded it was a murder. It happened at a party in London, where Roy Heston grew up. They argued. The brawl triggered Heston and he pushed her off a balcony."

"Her head was cracked open. Brains gushed out and all. Absolutely gruesome."

"That's usually how murders go," mutters Bravon.

I ask, "What about his mother?"

"His mother was aware of what he did, including Miss Levesque. She tried to hide it and was his lawyer for the trial, and failed. Ultimately, Heston is as gone as a rotting corpse. Well, he will be a rotting corpse. Initially, his sentence was, what, five years in regard to Miss Levesque's case? Charlotte Marin added another ten. This one here—" Bravon pats Ishaan Ali "—can be a life sentence."

Morris grins happily. "Not only was it partially calculated, but it's also Islamophobia. This also shows behaviour. Once is a mistake, twice is a coincidence, thrice is a pattern."

"Thrice," says Bravon, "is behaviour. The judge, the jury, whatever, will pick that out. Different situations are comparable."

"Heston has a history of anger," says Morris. "We got a psychological report. Recently, he has been diagnosed with the antisocial disorder. Now, push aside these facts, sometimes the main signal the criminal justice system uses to determine is group behaviour."

"Birds of a flock stick together," I say.

Bravon frowns. "Interesting analogy. But yes. Birds of a flock stick together. Whether it's for validation, a sense of belonging, conformity and whatnot, it's solid. People or circumstances, you attract what you are."

Careful, boy.

Morris waves a hand to the fuckers laid out. "Tell us about these boys."

My lawyers fixate on me. The intensity in their attention would have discomfited me had Bella not been here. She rests on the table, her tail tickling my bare, scarred arms that cause Morris to involuntarily glimpse at them in horror. Ugly scars. The steam of my coffee spirals and the Toyger kitten purrs, trotting to me and collapsing into my lap under the table. Picking her up, she climbs into my hood.

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