Amelia sighs and fidgets in the flimsy plastic chair. She stares into the mirror, wondering if the detectives are on the other side observing her. She didn’t meant for it to happen. It was all a stupid, stupid accident. Well, Amelia isn’t sure she can call it that. She pulls at the cuffs mindlessly, ignoring the stabbing pain in her arm. The bandage would need to be changed soon. She can technically get out of the cuffs if she wanted to, but she doesn’t want to make things worse than they already are. She’s been trying to leave that part of herself behind. She replays the events of the day in her head.
She just started her new job at a restaurant in the town she just moved to. It was her fifth day, and she was still putting feelers out, learning what she needed to while trying to learn the people as well. She just happened to be walking by when Ryan, a quiet blond guy who usually kept to himself, turned to head to the sink. The knife he’d been carrying barely pierced the skin of her bicep. Pain seared through her arm, but she seemed to shut down. Before she knew what was happening, she had her box cutter out, with the blade all the way out. She felt herself slipping back into her old self, the person she used to be. All those memories resurfaced in those few moments, flashing in her mind’s eye as she
Luckily, she only stabbed him in the shoulder, but he dropped to the floor. Everyone gathered around in shock. The box cutter fell from Amelia’s hand. She looked around, seeing that no one was moving to help him. She hadn’t meant to…
“Shit…” Amelia whispered to herself and yanked her apron off before dropping to her knees. Ryan flinched away from her, but she pushed him back gently so he was laying back on the floor. His face was twisted in pain, and she tried to feel sympathy for him. That’s something she’s been working on lately. Amelia pressed her apron onto the stab wound to try and stop the bleeding.
Things just seemed to escalate from there. The manager had called for an ambulance and the police, who’d arrived rather slowly, in Amelia’s opinion. After a short visit to the back of the ambulance, listening to Ryan ramble the whole time from whatever meds they’d put in his IV. She had looked back at him and he had this dreamy smirk on his face and said “Does this mean you like me?” He’d tried to gesture to his stab wound, but it looked like his arms didn’t want to work. Amelia had simply rolled her eyes and turned away, erasing his face from her memory, knowing she’d never be seeing him again. After the medic was done bandaging her arm, she was escorted to the back of a police car by a stocky, balding officer while being read her rights. Yeah, yeah.
She blows out a sharp breath, trying for the hundredth time to get the red, curly strands of her hair out of her face. She looks at herself in the mirror, noticing how pale and tired she looks, bags under her blue eyes. She feels defeated, like she’d been here for hours. Amelia really thought she’d gotten rid of that part of her life. She’d thought that she’d left it all behind when she’d left the agency. This time, she’d have to go back. Monroe won’t give her a choice, but right now, Monroe is her only option.
Speak of the devil, minutes later, the door to the interrogation room opens and Monroe struts in, hair in a high ponytail, glasses perfectly situated on her nose. And of course, donning her perfectly ironed blue pantsuit. The stocky officer from before is right behind her. They’d allowed her to make a call when she’d arrived at the station, so of course, she’d called Monroe, knowing that was the only way she was going to make it out of the police station. The office- Dooley, his name tag read, came over and uncuffed her. “You’re free to go, Miss.”
Before anything else could be said, Monroe ushers her outside and into the backseat of her black Lincoln.
“Amelia! I’ve missed you.” Gale say from the driver seat. Gale is Monroe’s driver, and also used to be Amelia’s. He’s a heavyset black man, wearing what drivers do- suit and tie with the drivers hat and white gloves. At first glance he didn’t appear to be too intimidating, but Amelia knew he could probably kill someone six different ways with z straw, being that he’s an ex Navy SEAL.
“Hey Gale, it’s been too long.” Amelia settles into her seat, as Monroe gets into the front. Amelia notices immediately that someone is in the seat next to her. She turns, seeing Ryan, the guy from the restaurant. He’s out like a light, his body lax, head lolled to one side, with a bit of drool sliding down his chin. “Oh God, what’s he doing here?”
“I’ll explain later, but right now, you have to sleep. We’ve got a long ride ahead of us. Philip wants to speak with you about all of this, so we’re going home first.” Amelia settles back reluctantly and closes her eyes, ignoring how conflicted she feels about going “home”. She doesn’t smile when she hears Monroe say. “I’m glad you’re back.”