Page 34 of Mafiosa
‘Are you listening, Sophie?’ Comisky asked, over Medina’s shoulder. He shoved himself away from the desk and plodded over to me. ‘Will you pay careful attention to what we’re saying?’ He looked like a very angry, very stout grandfather. But not the sweet kind. The I-drink-way-too-much-at-family-gatherings-and-shake-my-cane-at-children kind.
‘I’m listening.’ I tilted my head and fluttered my lashes, preparing my lie before I even knew what I would have to say. ‘Ask away.’
Medina shifted forward, his elbows finding purchase on his knees. ‘Sophie, do you know where your father is?’
‘Huh?’ I scrunched my nose. ‘What are you talking about?’
‘Answer the question,’ he said.
‘That is my answer.’
Medina fell back on to his hunkers. He looked up at Comisky and another uneasy glance passed between them.
‘What’s going on? Where is my father?’
Medina stood up. ‘Sophie, your father was granted furlough from Stateville Correctional Center on Sunday morning for your mother’s remembrance ceremony.’
‘Yes.’ I could feel myself nodding, but all my immediate thoughts were wrapped up in what they were now attempting to tell me, and what I was praying wasn’t actually true. But I could feel it, sucking the ground out from underneath me, building and building, until it rolled back towards me like a tsunami.
‘And you were seen with him at the memorial service for your late mother,’ Comisky supplied.
Again, I said, ‘Yes.’
‘We know you two were in contact.’
‘The whole town knows. It’s not a secret.’
‘Do you know where he went after that ceremony?’ asked Medina.
‘Back to prison?’ I said. ‘Where he was supposed to go?’
Please say he went back to prison.
Please tell me this isn’t happening.
Medina’s lips disappeared, his mouth settling into a hard line. ‘No, Sophie. Your father didn’t go back to prison.’
‘He had an escort with him,’ I said, shaking my head. ‘I saw him. He was there the whole time. My father was being monitored. He had a guard,’ I repeated, as if I could convince them.
‘Hadbeing the operative word,’ said Medina. ‘That guard is now in hospital recovering from a severe concussion…’ He trailed off, expelling all the air in one long sigh, before adding, ‘Your father’s tracking bracelet has been deactivated, and your father is nowhere to be found.’
I gaped at them.
This was a joke. This had to be a joke.
‘We’ve been searching for him for several days,’ Comisky added.
‘And you’re only telling me thisnow?’ I said, more shrilly than I meant to.
Another shared glance. ‘The situation is delicate,’ said Medina. ‘We didn’t want to alert you until…’ He trailed off.
I narrowed my eyes at him. ‘Until you definitely couldn’t find him and you started to suspect my involvement, right?’
He nodded. ‘Something like that.’
‘Sophie,’ interrupted Comisky, picking up the thread and being a lot more gruff about it than Medina was, ‘let’s speakplainly. We want to know if you’re hiding him.’
Where were the words? Why weren’t they coming out? They were all jammed in a revolving door, struggling, pushing and prodding. I opened my mouth, all the dread piling on my tongue, gathering and pooling, until eventually, a sound sprang from me.
