Chapter 47
Harlow
What the hell is going on?
I pace the length of my cell for what feels like the thousandth time.
Why is nobody coming to tell me something…anything? Surely, I must have some sort of rights?
The tray of food they brought earlier sits on the floor, half-eaten. I forced myself to eat something. I need to keep my strength up for whatever comes next. After eating, I lay on that awful mattress and must have dozed off for a while, but now I’m awake and more upset than ever.
It’s been ages since I saw Drake. Ages since anyone spoke to me about what’s going on, what’s happening, what they think I’ve done. The silence is driving me crazy, eating away at my sanity bit by bit.
I stop pacing and grip the bars, pressing my forehead against the cold metal. How long have I been in here? One day? Two?
The sound of footsteps makes me lift my head. Two guards are walking away, their shift apparently over. In their place come two more female shifters. They take up positions outside my cell, standing at attention.
One of them catches me staring and glares back. I look away, returning to my pacing.
Five minutes later, the sudden click of the lock makes me jump. I spin around to see one of the female guards at my cell door.
“Come with us,” she orders.
My heart beats fast as I step through the doorway. Are they taking me to see Drake? To their Council? Is this it? Is this when they tell me what’s going to happen to me?
Even though I’m terrified, I hope I get some clarity.
But they don’t say anything; just gesture for me to walk ahead of them. Two male shifters fall into step behind us as we move down the corridor.
We stop at a door about halfway down the hall. One of the women opens it and jerks her head, indicating that I should go inside.
My heart drops when I see that it’s a bathroom facility. There are three open showers, a row of sinks, and some toilet stalls, but with no doors. The white tiles and fluorescent lighting make everything look cold.
The male guards remain outside while the two women follow me in, shutting the door behind them.
“You have five minutes to shower and change,” one of them says, pointing to a hook on the wall.
Hanging there are gray overalls that have “prisoner” written all over them. As well as some clean underwear that looks suspiciously like my own. Someone must have gone through my things in the bungalow.
The thought irritates me, but I’m too grateful for the chance to shower to protest.
I go to the basin and quickly brush my teeth with the supplies there. Then I strip off my clothes, hyper-aware of the two women watching my every move. There’s no privacy here, no dignity.
I ignore them as best I can, reminding myself that shifters are different about nudity than we humans. It isn’t a big deal to them.
The water is lukewarm at best, but I don’t care. I scrub my skin and hair, trying to wash away the feeling of being trapped, of being powerless. Five minutes isn’t nearly enough, but I make the most of it.
As I’m toweling off and pulling on the clean underwear, I decide to try one more time. Maybe these women will be different. Maybe someone will finally listen.
“When will I be allowed to speak with a lawyer?” I ask, stepping into the overalls and zipping them up the front.
The two shifters exchange a look, and then they laugh like I’ve just told the funniest joke.
“That’s not how it works on Draig,” one of them says, still chuckling.
I bend down to put my sneakers back on, my fingers fumbling with the laces.
“How does it work then?”
“The evidence has been gathered. The Council will reconvene later today to decide your fate,” the other one says.
So soon? Surely, they can’t have conducted a proper investigation so quickly. This feels like a witch hunt. It’s clear that I’m not going to be given a chance to defend myself, to explain, to make them understand.
“What evidence do they have?” I ask, finishing with my shoes and standing up.
The first woman shrugs. “They did interviews with other trainee riders. There was an analysis of the cellphone they found in your bedroom. As well as the findings after the searches of all the bungalows.”
My heart sinks so fast I feel dizzy. This means that they have nothing new. The interviews turned up nothing. The searches too. The cellphone will have evidence against me since it was planted.
I’m in so much shit.
I’m being framed, and whoever is doing it is doing a great job. A terrifyingly good job.
“What else?” I press, desperation creeping into my voice. “Surely they’re still looking into it?”
Drake must still be looking into it. He has to be. He loves me. That has to mean he trusts me, that he believes in me. He couldn’t say it when he saw me because of the camera, but I have to hold on to that belief.
I’m holding on to it like a lifeline.
“They might still be busy investigating,” the first woman says with a one-shouldered shrug.
“They’re not,” the other one cuts in, shaking her head.
“I have a friend who works at the Council offices, and they’ve basically concluded their investigation.
Nothing more is happening. It’s just a matter of Council members going over what they have and then making a decision for the vote later today. ”
No. No. No.
They’ve stopped investigating. They’ve stopped looking for the truth. They’re just going to vote on what they have, which makes me look guilty as hell.
“Are you sure they’ve stopped?” I ask.
“Very sure. It’s cut and dried.” She glares at me.
“What will happen if I’m found guilty?” I force myself to ask.
“When you’re found guilty,” she corrects. “You’ll be sent back to the Mainland.” The woman’s voice is cold and hard. “You’ll be tried there, but it will be a formality and based on evidence gathered here. Then you’ll go to jail, where you belong.”
No. This can’t be happening. I can’t go to jail. I can’t be convicted of something I didn’t do.
“The last person convicted got a couple of years, and all they did was divulge some information to a family member,” the first woman continues, her eyes narrowed as she stares at me.
“It wasn’t nearly as bad as what you did.
You sent tons of information to someone on the Mainland.
” She glares at me with such hatred that it makes me take a step back.
“You deserve everything you’re about to get. ”
“A few years?” I choke out, the words barely making it past the lump in my throat. “I’m innocent. I didn’t do anything wrong. That wasn’t my phone. I didn’t send those messages.” My voice is desperate and small. So very small. Just like I feel. I can’t believe this is happening.
The two shifters look at each other and roll their eyes. Then they laugh in a way that’s just plain cruel.
“That’s what all offenders say,” one of them mutters.
But I’m innocent. Why won’t anyone believe me? I didn’t do this. I would never betray Draig, never betray Drake, never put anyone in danger. But it doesn’t matter what I say because no one is listening.
I feel completely defeated. The weight of it crashes over me. I’m stuck in here with no way out, no way to prove my innocence, no way to stop what’s coming. There’s nothing I can do about it.
“Please,” I beg, hating how pathetic I sound but unable to stop myself. “I need to see Drake. Please, can someone tell him?”
The women exchange another look, this one almost pitying. Almost, but not quite.
“If Councilor Drake wishes to see you, he will put in a request,” one of them says. “But since you ruined him, I doubt he’ll be interested.”
The words are like a crushing weight on my chest.
“Do you have any idea how hard it is for a dragon to lose their mind-bond?” the other woman tells me, her voice rising with anger. “The agony of it?”
“Not to mention that he will lose his place on the Council because of you,” the first one adds. “You should be ashamed of yourself.”
The first shifter moves forward and pushes me roughly toward the door.
“Get going before I decide to beat your ass.”
I stumble forward, tears blurring my vision as they march me back to my cell. The male guards follow, their presence a silent reminder that I’m trapped, that there’s no escape.
Drake thinks I did this. He must hate me. The thought is agonizing, more painful than anything they could inflict on me. He thinks I betrayed him, that I destroyed what we had, that I’m responsible for him losing everything.
The thought breaks me.