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.626Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡNpfgVf8IjY
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?"626Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡbPErK5L67P
LaForge held up a large plastic bag and walked over to her. Inside was her black purse.626Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡeT8ZiNEfny
"This is yours?" he asked.626Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡSr3yqxrdOK
She stifled her initial instinct to respond. She'd just spent the last few hours promising herself she would stay quiet.626Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡGOk1rmLu9R
LaForge looked at Picard. "A simple question, I would think."626Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡnW48lhR48P
"It's my purse," she said.626Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡuQHXGH44f9
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.626Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡGFQz1DoTBh
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.626Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ51qAcvZx4i
"So? It's a gun."626Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡbaZITJUMYO
"It's your gun," he said.626Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡo4yDE8YjOg
"No, it's not. I don't own a gun. I've never seen that thing before in my life."626Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡYoPuySlRiA
"Why do you lie to us? Admit it. Admit that this your gun."626Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡg5rY8MYlQf
"Fuck you!" said Mischa. It felt good, empowering.626Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡjjkPbJqTbY
He held it closer, mere inches from her face, shaking it for emphasis.626Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡRp84BQvLHy
She turned her head. "We've got nothing more to say to each other."626Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡXwvVpG3JKS
"Nothing more. Nothing more. I am---so sorry to hear that. I had hoped you could explain something to me."626Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡW6iqPdznv7
Mischa looked at him. "Yeah? What do you want explained to you?"626Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡT2gqrYIsaQ
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?"626Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡqNhSj3njFd
