Page 103 of Fighting Fate

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It’s been three days. Three days of being in hospital with nothing but Chinese whispers of how Rory is doing and what’s happening. The entire weekend has been hell on earth, and I just need it to be as close to over as it can be right now. Every time I relive that night, it feels like a bit more of my life is withering away. Two days in a row, the police have been here, asking the same questions again and again as though they’re trying to find something they can twist.

“Miss Anson, we’re just trying to make sure all the stories add up,” the male detective tells me when I flop back into the nest of pillows and stare at the ceiling.

“Are you? It doesn’t feel that way…” I scoff, wrapping my arms over my bump because they protected me once before, and even though I know the action won’t do anything now…there’s some comfort in it. “You’ve done nothing for the last two months, and now you’re doing nothing again.”

“We’re getting two very different stories from you and the victim.”

“She’s the victim!” Mum snaps, standing from her seat beside me. “This is ridiculous…you’re meant to be on her side. You’re meant to be protecting her…”

“We’re not here to take any sides,” he tells her coolly before focusing back on me. “You had an affair, and you broke up…ten months ago.”

“Yes.”

“And after that, there was nothing else?”

“No. Nothing.”

“But you didn’t ask for your keys back?”

The insinuation in his question has me gritting my teeth. “I…our break-up wasn’t amicable, and in the mess of it all, I forgot.”

“And you never met with him after that?”

“Never.”

“You’re certain?”

“Yes.”

“In April, you were both at a party together.”

“We weren’t there together. I was there with Frank, my agent, and I bumped into Peter outside the toilets.” A shudder wracks through me as I go back to that night. My heart felt broken at the time…now, it feels as though it’s about to obliterate. I’ve never felt so foolish in my life as I do right now.

The detective holds up a photo of that night. Me and Peter huddled in a corner with him holding me while I’m looking up at him. I can see how it looks like that, but it’s not how it was.

“It’s not what Mr. Saunders told us.”

“Then he’s lying,” I snap, snatching the photo from him and having a closer look. I’m trying to find something that will disprove whatever bullshit Peter’s told him. “It’s not what it looks like.”

“Isn’t it? To me, it looks like you left the party and ended up in a secluded corner with Mr. Saunders…”

Dorian peers into the room. Her face is pinched into a scowl as she looks between the three of us. “Sounds like you’re reaching for something, Detective,” she says as she comes back inside the room. “If so, then you should have advised us to have my sister’s solicitor present?”

“I’m just trying to make all the events fit, Ms. Anson. Feel free to sit in if you feel there’s a need to support.”

“I feel there is a need for you to be very careful of where you lead this conversation. It wouldn’t help the investigation if the main detective was seen to be harassing and intimidating the victim of an attack.” Adjusting her blazer, she perches herself on the edge of the table in the corner. “In fact, I have to insist that you share a copy of your recording with Mr. Barrow. My sister’s solicitor should be able to listen through this conversation himself.”

“Recording…?”

“Well, I’m assuming since you’re not taking written notes, that you are recording this? If not, it’s all quite pointless.”

The grind of his teeth is practically audible from where I’m lying as he pulls his phone out and puts it down on the over-bed table between us. “I’ll be sure to pass it along.”

“Great, I’ll be sure to inform him,” she smiles tersely. “Please, carry on. We should wrap this up as expediently as we can, seeing that my sister needs to rest. We can both agree that she’s been through enough, and we wouldn’t want her health or that of her unborn child’s compromised. Would we?”

“Very well.” The detective focuses back on me. He’s silent for a while, going through the other photos in his hand. A sneer puckers his lips as he states, “The image from the club footage shows you and Mr. Saunders having an intimate moment away from the festivities.”

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