Chapter 19. Geometry Of Guilt
Raveene stood in the center of her bedroom, her eyes wide and fixed on the heavy oak door as if it were a portal to her own execution. The knocking didn't stop; it was persistent and rhythmic, a powerful, authoritative summons that allowed no room for hesitation.
"Miss Hale, are you in there?" The voice was a jagged edge of professional impatience. "I am calling for you. The Governor requests your presence downstairs immediately."
The mention of her father struck Raveene's chest like a spear, the cold iron of fear making her flinch. She stood paralyzed for a heartbeat, her mind a frantic machine trying to assemble a defense out of thin air. She realized, with a sinking gut, that she couldn't fight this from behind a locked door. To delay any longer would only confirm the suspicions already swirling through the mansion. If she was going to survive the next hour, she had to play the part of the innocent, bewildered daughter. She had to walk into the lion's den and pretend she didn't smell like the hunt.
She moved to the door, her hands trembling as she smoothed her singlet. She paused, took a deep breath to settle the frantic rhythm of her heart, and pulled the door open just enough to reveal a face that looked heavy with sleep. She rubbed her eyes, squinting against the hall light.
"Yes? I'm sorry, I was..."
The officer standing in the hallway didn't look convinced. He observed her with a raised eyebrow, his gaze scanning her face for any trace of the high-octane panic he had likely expected. "I'm sorry for disturbing your rest, Miss Hale, but the Governor requires your presence downstairs," he said, his voice clipped.
Raveene gave a slow, drowsy nod. "Okay. I'll be down in a bit. Just let me—"
"He means right now," the officer interrupted, his tone leaving no room for negotiation.
Raveene felt a fresh jolt of terror, but she forced a tired exhale. "Alright." She stepped out into the hallway and pulled the door shut behind her, the click of the latch sounding like a finality. The officer led the way, his boots thudding against the carpeted stairs as Raveene followed, maintaining the stoic, hazy expression of someone whose brain was still rebooting from a deep slumber.
When they reached the grand living room, the atmosphere was thick enough to choke on. Her father stood by the fireplace, a terrifying expression carved into his features—the face of a man who had reached the limit of his endurance for nonsense. He and his wife were seated on the edges of their respective sofas, while several police officers stood like silent sentinels at the far ends of the room. Every pair of eyes in the space swiveled to Raveene as she stepped onto the marble floor, rubbing her eyes with a practiced, sluggish motion.
The way her father stared at her made her feel as though her internal organs were being twisted by a cold, invisible hand. Don't break, Raveene, she coached herself, the mantra screaming in the back of her mind. Don't break. You can do this. She swallowed the lump in her throat and took a tentative step closer to the center of the room.
"Yes? What's going on? Why are all these people here?"
"Miss Hale," the man who appeared to be the commanding officer spoke up. There was no preamble, no polite greeting, and no waste of breath. "I would like to ask a few questions regarding your movements yesterday. It would be in your best interest to answer with the utmost truth."
Raveene sank onto the edge of a nearby sofa, her movements languid. She tilted her head to the side, maintaining her performance of post-sleep disorientation. "Yes, go on," she said weakly.
"I would like to confirm your whereabouts after you checked out of the VPD headquarters early yesterday—approximately thirty minutes before the lockdown sirens began."
The sentence hung in the air like a poised blade. Raveene heard her mother let out a sharp, audible gasp. Mrs Hale's eyes went wide as she whipped her head around to glare at Raveene, a look of pure, unadulterated fury that suggested she wanted to pull the truth out of her daughter's throat.
"I'm sorry, did you say thirty minutes before the lockdown?" Mrs Hale asked, her hand outstretched as if to physically halt the officer's words.
"Yes," the officer confirmed, his gaze never leaving Raveene. "Our superintendent confirmed she gave an excuse regarding urgent personal matters. He granted her leave well before the lockdown commenced. We expected she would have been home long before the streets were cleared."
The revelation forced both of her parents to look at her with a renewed, piercing scrutiny. Raveene felt her jaw tighten, but she clung to her mask of arrogant nonchalance. She traced a hand across her forehead, her eyes half-lidded.
"What are you talking about?" she asked, her voice a fragile thread of confusion. "This is... I don't understand. I think there's a mistake."
But beneath the facade, her heart was a trapped bird fluttering against a cage.
Fuck these people, she thought, her mind a frantic blur. Do they really want to blow my cover this badly? She took a breath and tried to pivot. "Look, I don't understand what you guys are talking about. I didn't actually leave early. Whatever personal business I had was handled within the VPD environment. I spent the evening with Clara before coming home. I've already explained this."
She could see, with a sinking clarity, that they weren't buying a single syllable of her story. The commanding officer stepped closer, his shadow falling over her.
"Are you sure about that, Miss Hale?" he asked, his voice dropping into a register of cold scrutiny. "Because from what we've been able to track, there was a specific piece of equipment utilized at the Eastern District crime scene yesterday—the same location where the anomaly of a human touching the beast occurred. We tracked the communication logs and the physical movement of that device. The signal led us straight to this estate."
The moment the words left his mouth, Raveene saw her father's eyes go wide, the pupils shrinking into pinpricks of rage. Raveene ground her teeth together, her fists clenching so hard her nails bit into her palms. Her mind flashed back to the previous night, to the window, and to the moment she had smashed the comms device and hurled it into the grass.
Fuck, she cursed internally.
The weight of her own mistake crashed down on her with a sickening finality.
Of all the reckless, catastrophically moronic things you have ever done in your life, Raveene - and the list was genuinely impressive - throwing a trackable government device into your own backyard might actually be the one that finishes you.
She thought.