Page 2 of Echoes

Theo.

My heart bleeds as obsidian eyes materialize in my head. If Theo really did do this, I need to protect him. Like he protected me.

It's not fair if he goes down for stopping a psychotic rapist. These people in this very building, they are the ones who are meant to protect us. But no one protects us at Lilydale. We're left to protect ourselves, written off from society as the villains. I'd have been long gone if it wasn't for Theo… and Grey. Fuck, even to a small extent, Damon too.

For the first time in my life, it's clear what I have to do. Theo is one of the only people who ever gave a shit about me—made me feel special and seen. If there's one good thing that I can do with my life, the one time I can save someone instead of needing saving, then this should be it. I don't know what my future holds, but at least Theo might still have one.

"Aren't I meant to have an attorney present?" I ask, reflecting from his question.

Detective Vernon glances up, still blasé with our interaction. "You haven't been charged with anything—yet. We're just asking questions."

"That can't be legal," I scoff. "I had my Miranda rights read. So, if you are going to be using anything said here to charge me, then I'm entitled to have someone present."

He slaps the folder shut, leaning back in his chair. His mouth opens but before he can say anything, a knock sounds on the fading, blue door. We both turn in unison to spot a female detective putting her head through the gap in the doorway.

"They've arrived," she tells him without glancing at me.

"Send them in," he replies.

I look at him, then the door, trying to figure out who would be here. Only a few seconds pass before the door opens again, my eyes widening slightly at the familiar figure.

Margaret walks in, dressed immaculately as always. She gives me a warm smile as she enters. A second figure follows her in, a male I don't recognize.

"Avery," she says in a friendly tone, like we're old friends. "How are you doing?"

"Splendid."

Detective Vernon stands, gathering up his folder. "Let me know when you are finished," he grunts, leaving the room.

As soon as the door closes behind him, Margaret takes his seat in front of me, eyes darting down to the handcuff. "You're hurt," she points out. "I can ask them to remove it."

"Don't bother," I grumble. "Didn't you hear? I'm the big, bad killer again."

There's sarcasm dripping in my tone, and I have no idea if we're being watched on the other side of the mirror. Maybe that's what this is—a secret ploy for a confession. At least Margie knows the truth. There's a small bit of comfort in that information.

"What happened?" she asks, ignoring my comment.

I shrug. "I don't know. One minute I was there, the next I was here. I told you that place was too much. I never should have gone there to begin with."

My eyes shift to the male still hovering near the door, uncomfortable with his unfamiliar presence while we talk about my past. Margaret follows my line of vision, softly nodding to him.

"Avery, I'd like you to meet Alexander."

Despite being the obvious elephant in the room, he makes no effort to move. His green eyes narrow over my frame, eyes lingering on the handcuff for a brief moment, before body-checking me with his gaze. It's as if he's trying to get a read on me, and I shift awkwardly, turning back to Margaret.

"What's going on?"

Margaret gives me a tight smile. "Alexander is here on behalf of the Foundation Center. He's one of the board members."

"Isn't that a conflict thing?" I ask, bewildered. "Or is he here to formally revoke my place?"

"Ordinarily, yes," comes a snarky reply from the doorway. He steps closer to the table, still observing me in a way that makes me want to rip my skin off my bones. It's not sexual—but it's certainly predatory. His salt and pepper hair is neatly styled back, his expensive Armani suit fitted to his tall frame.

Must be all those fees and donations they get…

"So, why are you here?" I question softly. I'm completely confused, exhausted. I had expected to be grilled for several hours by detectives until I broke, then thrown into a dark, cold cell. But this meeting was not something I could have anticipated. If Margaret wasn't here, I'd be really lost. Her familiar presence is grounding me slightly, stopping me from breaking.

Alexander doesn't answer me, instead looking at Margaret and giving her a curt nod. She sighs in relief, giving me a smile.

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