One Last Thing ✅

twenty things

It seems like I barely even fall asleep before I'm awakened by a clanging noise. When I open my eyes, I see Pete standing outside my cell, banging on the bars.

"Girl," he says loudly. "Hey, girl."

"My name's Lil," I mumble.

"Yeah, whatever. Your lawyer's here."

I roll into a sitting position and rub my eyes. One of the guys a few cells down is taking a piss. I look away, ashamed for us both.

"You coming?"

"Yeah," I reply, slowly and painfully getting to my feet.

Pete holds the door open for me and then shows me the way to the visiting area. There are a bunch of tables, and Grams and an older gentleman with salt and pepper hair and a beige trench coat are sitting in the corner.

I take a seat across from them.

Grams gives me a reassuring look. "Lil, this is Mr. Mason."

I give him a polite nod and hold out my good hand, the one that's still a little stained with ink from getting my fingerprints done. He tenderly takes my hand and gives it a little shake.

"Pleasure to meet you, Liliana," he says, pronouncing my name correctly. He and Grams must have already gone over the basics. "I'm going to do everything I can to get you out. I know Judge Farrell, the woman who will be handling your case, and I'm fairly confident I can get you released on your own recognizance. You'll most likely spend the night here. I'll meet with the judge first thing tomorrow morning."

Grams reaches across the table, rubs my arm soothingly.

"Okay," I say blandly.

Grams studies me. "Are you okay?"

I consider her question carefully. From the moment Chief Elliot showed up at my hospital room with handcuffs, I felt a sense of inevitability settle over me. Everything that's happened to me, from getting fingerprinted to listening to the lock click into place, seems right somehow.

"Yes," I say. "I'm just waiting for this to be over."

Grams squeezes my hand. I suspect she's thinking I meant I want all of this legal stuff to be finished with.

But that's not what I meant at all.