The Aftermath
"I've been told you wanted to know more about Charlotte. I'm guessing you are her mother. You look alike." Clara cast a look towards the woman sitting on a metal chair, heavily restrained. Bass and Miles were there too, sitting on more comfortable seats. Clara was nervously looking around the room.
Rachel nodded curtly. She had the look of a defeated woman. Her sunken eyes where swollen and red from all the tears, the bags underneath her eyes appeared to be almost black. Yet this woman shook Clara to her very core. She was scared of her and yet no words had been spoken on her part.
Miles and Bass barely looked better. This was looking more and more like a therapy session for the deeply depressed. The young woman wanted nothing more than to turn around and leave; go far away from Philly and never come back to this filthy city. Having been given no choice, she sat down and nervously wrung her hands before speaking.
"I don't know what to tell you."
Bass, looking extremely fatigued and sad, glanced at her and urged her in a low voice:
"Start from the day you met her."
Clara pressed her hands to the metal table to keep them from trembling too much. She felt dark days coming. Oh Hell, was she ever getting out of here?
She told them all the gruesome details pertaining to the abuse. She didn't want to say the words out loud and from the expressions she was observing, they didn't really want to hear all those horrible things. She took pity on herself and the other occupants of the interrogation room and also told them a few good things they should know about Charlotte. She had been conscripted at age 14 but she had trained hard and used to be a good soldier. She actually worked as a scout. Charlie had once told her how she would keep track of things that were long gone. Most people were blind to the small details but Charlie saw them and understood them. She also used to have a friend called Jason. Clara couldn't say if they had ever been more than friends but she had accepted to become Davidson's slave in an attempt to save him. Davidson had threatened Jason's life and Charlie had always felt so guilty about the whole ordeal. Another thing to Charlie's credit was that she had stayed hidden in the enemy's nest for so long. Of course, Clara hadn't known who she was at the time but Charlie had told the maid her family was dead. Charlie didn't waver.
She had never told anyone who she really was. She had remained so strong and yet so alone; the thought made Clara tear up. The young woman had never snapped at anyone or said one unkind word. When Clara had been forced to leave she had squeezed her hands and given her a big warm smile, wishing her luck. Clara wanted them to know how much of a good person Charlie was. She was the kind of girl that didn't care about clothes or hairstyles. In Charlie's book, the best outfit was a simple one and it preferably involved pants. The young woman also seemed to really enjoy reading and Clara had enjoyed more than one intelligent conversation with her.
Rachel was crying and smiling at the same time. She was so sorry for her daughter and yet she felt
so proud of her. She had turned out to be such a good, decent woman. Rachel knew she didn't get all these good traits from her. She was not blind: she knew perfectly well how much of a cold and manipulative person she could be at times. She had tried doing things differently but old habits kept on creeping back. She couldn't help who she was on the inside.
Clara only kept quiet about one incident because General Matheson looked like he wanted to hang himself, Rachel Matheson was crying, and the President's face had taken on a suspicious green tint. She couldn't tell them about the day she found Charlie about to try to slit her own wrists in the bath. That decision had been a great moment of weakness on Charlie's part and she had regretted her intentions once Clara had forcibly talked her out of taking her own life. She knew Charlie wasn't really suicidal; she had very difficult moments, and understandably so.
She really felt like hair in soup, watching the two most powerful men in the Republic appear so utterly lost.
Miles Matheson was feeling like shit. He had failed every fucking thing that mattered in life. Starting a relationship with his brother's life was already pretty bad but what he had done to his daughter made his stomach twist in disgust. And there was absolutely no use mentioning his gruesome role in the creation of the Republic or the fact that he had made captives of his own relatives. The things he had said to her sickened him to his very core. He wanted to die every time he remembered how he had treated her. All along, he had been blind. Charlie, however, had most probably been aware that he was her uncle (Rachel had never told her who her real father was either). She must see him as a heartless monster. Now, she was gone and he couldn't make amends until he got her back. Miles Matheson believed he was headed straight for Hell when he died but the thought of not making this right, at least as right as he could make this mess, was unbearable.
A suspicion was growing in Clara's mind. Telling stories about Charlie had reminded her about the fearless, unbroken woman she had been at the very beginning. She felt her heart swell at the thought that Charlie had found some of her old self underneath the ghost Davidson had made of her. The more the former maid pondered it, the more realistic her scenario seemed. However, was it wise to share her thoughts with the others? Maybe it was her duty to let them know. Not because they were still investigating the matter, but because it meant so much in light of what they had just heard about the young woman. The victim had killed her aggressor; which could only mean that Charlie was still very much herself deep down. How odd it would seem, conveying a message of hope by accusing Charlie of murder committed in self-defence.
"Before I leave, there's something I should tell you."
"Sure, go ahead."
"After all the things I have told you, it seems your murder investigation should end."
"Why is that? The killer still hasn't been apprehended." Replied Bass in a bored tone
Clara took a look around the room. Miles was still wallowing in self-pity and did not seem to be paying much attention to the things surrounding him. Bass looked mildly annoyed, which seemed very peculiar on his depressed mien. Rachel Matheson was the only one truly paying attention to Clara. Her eyes were shining bright with intensity and her lips curved upward almost unperceivably.
"I think there is a very good chance Charlie is the killer you have been searching for."
