THE DOOR OPENED. It was Picard and LaForge again. Mischa didn't know how much time had passed. Her best guess was three hours, perhaps four. She was dehydrated and nauseated and completely off the scopes. She was, she assumed, just like they wanted her.625Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡIdhEH4PtWx
It was about control, after all. Manipulation. They held all the cards, Picard and LaForge, and Mischa Barton had none. None except her complete innocence, if that counted as a card. She hoped that it still did.
"I need to use the restroom and I need some water," she said.
LaForge shook his head dismissively, as if her request wasn't even in range of reasonableness. "Not until you---explain to us."
That wasn't going to happen. She'd spent the last few hours steeling herself. Don't say a word, she thought. Wait for a lawyer, no matter how long it takes. What in the hell was she doing talking to these assholes? They didn't have anything on her. They couldn't possibly.
Keep telling yourself that, thought Mischa.
"I want a lawyer," she said yet again.
"You do not have that right," said Picard.
"Do the French still have to prove people guilty? Or did you do away with that, too? Will I even get a trial?"625Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ5PmCiMAlrq
LaForge held up a large plastic bag and walked over to her. Inside was her black purse.625Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡn2VXjVlfxY
"This is yours?" he asked.625Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ0tmhVl6mOt
She stifled her initial instinct to respond. She'd just spent the last few hours promising herself she would stay quiet.625Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡgeULU6xo6J
LaForge looked at Picard. "A simple question, I would think."625Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡFNcAl4IR8o
"It's my purse," she said.625Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡSeA6Ji0Xrw
LaForge, wearing a smug expression, returned to the door, where he made an exchange with someone in the hallway and returned with the second bag.625Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡNSXjI8bdye
It held a handgun. Not the one Renaud had last night; this gun was smaller. He displayed the weapon to Mischa with pride, watching her reaction. She didn't know how to react.625Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡR8LjPUZQDu
"So? It's a gun."625Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡNVfdaZTv1n
"It's your gun," he said.625Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ3j4teXa0XU
"No, it's not. I don't own a gun. I've never seen that thing before in my life."625Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡcbRfGmRTH2
"Why do you lie to us? Admit it. Admit that this your gun."625Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡO7M3M0hKxq
"Fuck you!" said Mischa. It felt good, empowering.625Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡc223MXLb8M
He held it closer, mere inches from her face, shaking it for emphasis.625Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡklHplI0Hdi
She turned her head. "We've got nothing more to say to each other."625Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡVCttUgkPU1
"Nothing more. Nothing more. I am---so sorry to hear that. I had hoped you could explain something to me."625Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡgHq2NmTnk1
Mischa looked at him. "Yeah? What do you want explained to you?"625Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ208GeZamF6
He leaned into her, a gleam in his good eye. "This gun that you say is not yours? If you would please explain to me why we found it in your purse?"625Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡLXIBdVBnNQ
