Adam [BOOK ONE]

XXVIII

My mind hadn't stopped racing since I saw it. She was standing there, blood dripping from the knife she clutched tightly in her hand, the chef sprawled out against the ground with blood streaming from every part of her. The ambulance and police had come quickly after, taking the cook to the hospital and placing my mom in the back of a cop car.

The hospital was cold and silent and dead. Jaquan sat with his face buried into his hands, blood covering his sleeves from where he had attempted to help the woman. Adam was beside me, his face still pale and seeming to not move. I couldn't feel anything except a deep emptiness, nothing made sense. My mother was not capable of stabbing someone. Especially not some random woman, not at a wedding that she had begged us to come to.

"Nance family," my ears perked up at the sound of the policemen's voice, "you with Miss Nance?"

"That's our mother," Jaquan spat, "where is she?"

"Healing, she suffered some injuries."

"That means she's the fucking victim."

"That doesn't mean anything. Right now we're not sure of anything, all we know is that we have a barely conscious woman and another woman with a knife in her hand. Put two and two together."

"Useless sons of bitches."

"Be as mad as you want, but maybe take your anger out on the more deserving person," he turned to Adam and I, "I'll need to ask you guys some questions. Elena right?"

I nodded.

"Could you come with me?"

I stood up, but Jaquan stepped between me and the officer.

"Where are you taking her?"

"Don't worry, you'll be coming with us soon enough," the officer winked and pushed past Jaquan. I placed my hand on his shoulder reassuringly and followed him to a room.

It was dimly lit, a vending and coffee machine sat in one corner and grey, metal desk in the other. He pulled out the chair and I slid into it.

"Hospital is letting us use this room to conduct our investigation. Can I offer you some coffee? A Twinkie?"

I shook my head.

"I know this is a shock for your Miss Nance, but I'm only here to do my job and get to the bottom of this. Now, I'm no judge or jury so I don't what happened and I can't say who did or didn't do it, all I can do is gather the facts. Sound good?"

"Yeah," my voice sounded distant.

"Good," he took out a notepad, "describe your relationship with your mother."

"Okay, I mean, we had our rough patches but-" I stared blankly at the window, "I don't know. She was always-"

"Always?"

"Nothing about her is criminal. She's a kind soul and yes, her and my father had problems, but who doesn't?"

"Alright, your mother ever do any drugs?"

"No, she wasn't that type of person."

"Elena, her tox screen came back about any hour ago. It was lit up like a Christmas tree, there was a lot of different things in her system. That could explain why she seemed so absent minded and out of it."

"She could've been drugged."

He shrugged, "I've been doing this for a while. My dad was a cop, my grandpa served in the military for forty years. I know what it's like to meet a drug addict, they're functional, you might think they could never-"