Chapter Two: Admissions and Disclosures
To Mia's disappointment, they weren't admitted to aid the prosecution team, but were simply briefed for information. The detective, leading them back into a conference room, admitted nothing. "We need help connecting the dots, is all," he said severely. "You can give us the information we need, in which case maybe we'll give you access to certain materials. But absolutely do not go off on your own and start... I don't know, pretending you're detectives."
Mia had just stared at him, unable to believe that he was using a carrot-and-stick approach. They were volunteering to help the prosecution's team, but he was worried about them interfering!
Iris remained much more calm about it. "I... I can help find her," she said in a tiny voice. She hesitated, but when Mia put a supportive hand on her am she continued, a little more strongly. "O-Over the past few months she moved around a lot, while I covered for her at the university. I can look through her letters and see if she mentioned anyplace she might have stayed."
The detective looked pained. "Miss Fey... I'm afraid that if you can prove your sister's whereabouts using her own writing, you'll be implicating yourself in a conspiracy for... well, I suppose at least the last two incidents."
There was a moment of silence. "That's fine," Iris said finally, quietly.
Mia was amazed. How could this girl, so calm and honest, be in any way related to Dahlia Hawthorne, much less be her twin sister? Mia also marveled at Iris's sacrifice, at having pretended to be that terrible girl for eight months now. At first it had sounded like a ludicrous story... but then Mia had remembered the look on Iris's face as she sat outside the facility, crying. She might look like Dahlia, but she, unlike her twin, could (and obviously did) fall in love.
"Miss Fey?" the detective said, then repeated, "Miss Fey?"
Mia suddenly realized he was talking to her, and mentally shook herself. "Yes?"
"I think we'll have to take your statements another day. The detective usually assigned to the Fawles case—you've probably met Detective Gumshoe—has been called over to the prosecution's offices to assist with another incident. I'd want to have him sit in on this."
He glanced sideways and added, "Perhaps, since you already know much of the case, we'll allow you access to see your former law partner."
The way the phrase rolled blandly from his tongue once again disguised his meaning, and he was already speaking to Iris again by the time Mia sucked in a breath of shock. She closed her eyes, saying a brief prayer of profound gratitude. The nausea was still there, making her imagine Diego's face terribly transformed, or things that could never be—but nothing could be worse, she told herself, than the fact that he'd been dead.
Perhaps there was some merit to the carrot-and-stick method, after all.
They left the police station together, walking awkwardly side-by-side and exchanging meaningless pleasantries. Iris seemed to be everything Dahlia presented herself to be: sweet, utterly innocent, and caring. She only mentioned her lover once or twice, the other young student, but she was obviously madly in love with him. It made Mia think again of her own sister, so helplessly and adorably emotional.
Suddenly, Mia could stand it no more. "Iris, please. Would you answer a question for me?" When she received a silent but polite nod in response, she said, "You know my aunt Morgan."
Iris hesitated, looking down at her feet. Finally, she answered, "No. No, I don't know her at all. But that's only a literal truth."
Mia had encountered people who skipped around the idea of the "whole truth" before, but had never been confronted by someone who admitted to leaving certain facts undisclosed. She narrowed her eyes. "So by that you mean, you know of her, but have no personal familiarity with her." She carefully considered, then added, "By the way, if you're terrified, don't worry. My aunt Morgan is a very intimidating person. In fact, she's the reason I left Kurain Village."
It was as if she'd said a magic word: Iris looked up at her, eyes brightening. "You actually lived in Kurain?"
"Yes," Mia answered, trying to keep her voice unsuspicious and light. Iris was clearly walking in the direction of the train station, and Mia would much rather unravel this mystery than head back to Mr. Grossberg's office alone. "For many years. My mother was... is... the Master of Kurain, Misty Fey. But she hasn't been in the village for many years." She laughed a little. "Neither have I... my sister's nuts about spirit channeling, and I'm more than happy to let her inherit the title, if it comes to that."
Iris remained silent, looking thoughtfully at the ground. Mia could hear birds singing—was it really that time of year already? Diego had taught her how to brew a perfect cup of coffee around this time last year, and she had been addicted to it ever since. She felt a craving now, the way some people said they craved cigarettes: she longed to warm her hands against the hot tumbler, her stress melting melt away as the caffeine entered her bloodstream.
At last Iris said, "Miss Fey—"
"Please, call me Mia."
Iris gulped audibly. "Er... Mia. Yes. Um..." She sighed, hands folded before her. "Do you mind if I don't tell you everything just yet? I lived in Hazakura Village most of my life, and am part of a Fey branch clan. I'm sure you understand how... strange... the relations between Hazakura and Kurain are..."
"Yes," Mia said, and immediately understood. Maya was set to be the next Master of the Kurain Tradition: and while Mia knew the head nun at Hazakura was a friendly sort, she was still part of the branch family. And everyone in the Kurain Tradition knew that branch families meant trouble, especially where Morgan Fey and her precious daughter were concerned. Mia loved little Pearly, but there was no denying that her very existence meant trouble for the clan. "Yes, I understand. Thank you for telling me."
Then she smiled, realizing. "We're probably cousins of some kind, Iris. Maybe I can take you to meet my sister!"
Iris made a mysterious little noise, somewhere between laughter and fear. "All right. I have been to Kurain, but... I have never met her. That would be nice."
The detective in charge of the Fawles case interviewed her the next morning. Eager to solve the case and thankful for any help he could get, the detective—much more friendly than his boss—had promised to immediately escort her to the witness-protection facility just afterwards.
He was true to his word, whisking her out the door and into his patrol car as soon as the deposition was signed. "If I may ask," Mia asked cautiously, as they walked up the sidewalk to the facility, "why was Iris here? I mean, the detective thought she was Dahlia at first."
He shrugged in embarrassment, his ears going red as he placed one large and gentle hand on her shoulder, urging her through the front doors. "Well... if you gotta ask, that was me." He paused, as if a bit frightened that he'd told her, and exclaimed, "Please don't tell the Detective, though! Miss Fey... er, the other Miss Fey... she sort of remembered me from the crime scene, and asked if she could see the victim. Victims, actually—she still thought the first one was alive."
"You mean Mr. Swallow?"
"Yup," said the detective glumly, scratching the back of his neck sheepishly and looking away. "I dunno how well I broke the news to her, but... I was doing something illegal anyway, so being tactful wasn't really on my mind, you know?"
Mia felt as if her chest would explode as she tried not to laugh and cry at the same time. She settled for putting a hand on his arm, and said softly, "I'm sure you did fine, Detective Gumshoe."
He looked down at her with a lopsided grin. "Thanks, Miss Fey. Um... sure there's no hard feelings...?" She just waited, until he shrugged helplessly, and bent to sign them in at the front desk. "You know, I guess I could have told you, too. That Mr. Armando was still alive."
Mia shook her head. "No, no hard feelings at all." She tried to sound cheerful even as her heart tried to thud its way into her shoes. "Dahlia might have tried again if she'd found out about him being alive, right?" She heard her own voice waver on him, and wondered how soon she would be able to speak Diego's name. Right now it felt like a jinx.
"Yeah," the detective said, obviously quite heartened. "Well, let's go in."
