“Come on, Ms De Souza. See sense. Agree to plead guilty.”
There’s a commotion in the corridor outside. Footsteps, loud voices. I’m expecting no one, whoever it is won’t have anything to do with me, but it’s distracting. My lawyer looks annoyed at the interruption when he sees he’s lost my attention.
“Ms De Souza. I haven’t got all day. Make your decision…”
The door bursts open. A middle-aged woman wearing a smart pant suit pushes her way in, comes over to stand next to me and warns firmly, “Not one word, Ms De Souza.” Then she speaks to a police officer standing in the doorway, after which she nods politely to the lawyer the court appointed for me. “Now, I’d like to speak to my client, alone. And please arrangeto have the recording equipment switched off. Client/lawyer confidentiality.”
I was recorded?Thank goodness I hadn’t said a word to convict myself. Hadn’t leaned towards a guilty plea, had I? No, I don’t think I had. I look at her gratefully.Has Drew managed to arrange this?No, he wouldn’t know how.Tse? Has Tse come through? Or has Drew contacted someone else?
While those thoughts were running through my head, the room was cleared, and I’ve been left alone with the newcomer. Her presence gives me a new worry. While I’m pleased she’s here, immediately sensing someone is on my side, I have to be honest.
Drew’s probably done what he can, but, “I can’t afford to pay you,” I say quietly, looking down, knowing she’ll stand and leave. Perhaps Drew misled her, let her think we had money.
But she stays in place. “Don’t worry about that. My fee’s been taken care of. Just concentrate on us sorting out this mess and getting you walking out of here a free woman again.”
I pull back, staring at her, wondering if she can be trusted. “Is that even possible?” And who’s paying her?
“I can’t say it won’t be difficult, but that fiancé of yours is quite a persuasive young man. If there’s evidence out there, he’ll find it. I won’t lie to you. You can’t afford to lose your DACA status, though with the current political situation, you may lose it soon in any event. But for now, you’ve still got it. Which means you can’t have a stain, or even the hint of one, on your record.”
My fiancé? Who the hell…?But I don’t contradict her. Just file it away as a puzzle to be solved later. If I said I had no man in my life, would she walk out the door thinking she wouldn’t get paid after all?
“The detectives said I won’t get bail.”
“You’ve not yet been charged. Let’s take it one step at a time, okay?” She pulls out a chair and sits down. “Take it from the top. I want to know everything.”
Unlike the other lawyer, she doesn’t look at her watch. I don’t even see her eyes flick to the clock on the wall. It seems like we talk for hours. I tell her everything, about my mom, about how she was killed when she returned to Colombia, the threat that I feel includes me too.
“Your father. You think he would harm you?”
A fleeting memory of giggling as he tossed me in the air.Do I really remember that, or was it just what Mom had told me?Then the change, the violence. “He sees nothing wrong with forcing,rapingwomen. My brother was a product of that. I’ve evaded him so long; he’ll want me back. See me as nothing more than property. He may even force me to marry someone who’d be like him. He’s got no compassion at all. He broke my arm just before Mom got me away.”
“If you returned to Colombia, is there anyone you could stay with?”
“No. My grandmother on my mom’s side died soon after she did. I think I’ve still got a grandfather on my father’s side, but I wouldn’t want to go to him. There’s no one else. I was only four when I left.” Sure, I played with the girl next door, but I can’t even remember her name now.Ann? Anna? Hannah?Even if I could, you can’t, as an adult, presume she would help based on a friendship that was between two little girls.
“So there’s an asylum case we can put forward. Of course, it would be better if there were actual threats toward you that we could refer to.”
Pursing my lips, I explain. “My mom had a cast iron case as was proved by events. And she wasn’t listened to.”
Carissa, as she’s introduced herself, half smiles. “I know it’s no comfort, Mariana, but that could help your case.”
“Can I make a phone call?” I ask. “I want to check on my brother.”
“Of course you do, but they won’t allow that yet. I understand you used your one call to him yesterday? I will tell you this, he’s in very good hands.”
I hardly dare ask. “Who, who is looking after him?”
This time it’s a full smile. “Why, that handsome young man of yours of course. Mr Williamson.”
I’m no wiser. It could be Tse, I never learned his family name. It doesn’t sound very Native American. But racking my brains, I don’t know any of Drew’s friends called Williamson either.
Chapter 10
Mouse
Alex came through. By mid-morning I had pledged a large portion of my savings and had engaged Carissa Beacham, an immigration lawyer with an apparently well-earned reputation.
I’m so far out of my depth, it’s no joke. I watch Drew, aimlessly sprawled on the couch, his eyes fixed on a programme on TV he has no interest in. He’s lost his mom, and now his sister.He called me for help.In doing that, he’s somehow made me responsible for him. Like I had a fucking clue what to do with a fifteen-year-old boy. He’d been in no state to go to school, so I let him stay home. Until we have news, he’s going to be in pieces.
