Chapter Fourteen: 291
A/N: Surprise! New chapter! I don't think I have to explain. You all know I really suck at uploading… Hopefully this makes up for it.
"You never told me what Isobel said."
You ask this in a seemingly offhanded way, fiddling with the wrap on your hand as you sit on the only chair in your cell. Katherine glances at you.
"Didn't I?" she replies, reverting her attention to her nails as she files them.
You cross your arms. She's had all day to tell you something and yet you've got nothing. You'd brushed the subject off just yesterday so there's no way she can feign having forgotten to mention it.
"No, you haven't," you say firmly and you wait for her to finish blowing her nails before you realise she's ignoring you. "Katherine."
She only smirks your way, "You know, you never told me why you changed your mind. What made you want to come now as opposed to before?"
You frown at her dodge but answer her question, "I needed to weigh out my pros and cons. Give me a break."
It's not exactly a full explanation but it is half-true; that retrial is a whole lot of cons if you stay around here and do nothing.
"What did she say?" you repeat. "What does she want you to do?"
"Mm, I don't think so," Katherine gets up from the edge of her bed and returns the nail file in her drawer, "You'll ruin it."
"Seriously?"
"Did I stutter, Elena? I don't need your persistently-annoying self to ruin anything."
"Ruin what?" you feel like snapping but you know she's deliberately omitting things at least partially as payback for worming your way into the escape. You reign the frustration back and in a more reasoning voice you say, "How would I? I mean, the probability of ruining something I don't know is higher than ruining something that I do. I don't need to know your life story but we can't keep secrets from each other. "
"Don't threaten me."
"Yesterday was a threat, Katherine," you say curtly, "Right now though? Not so much."
"The only reason why you're part of anything is because I find you useful," she doesn't raise her voice or hiss the words. It's factual, if anything. "Don't mistake my cooperation to mean that I'll do whatever you say just because you asked."
What's that supposed to mean? Your brows furrow and you say skeptically, "What do you mean useful?"
She barely knows you and somehow you're useful?
"Everyone involved plays a part," she says it like you should've already known that, "Surely, you don't think I'd let you take part just because of some measly threat?"
You're lips twitch because you know with full certainty that your threat was nothing close to measly but you didn't actually expect her to suddenly become nicer now that you've forced you're way into her plans.
"So what's my part supposed to be?"
"Right," she scoffs as she grabs one of her books and returns to the bunk.
You get up and lower your voice, "If you aren't going to tell me that now then at least tell me who everyone is."
"Wouldn't you love to know?"
"Seriously."
"Well, now isn't exactly the place, is it?"
You shake your head, "Then where is?"
"Later," she sighs as she thinks for a second, "I'll tell you where to meet."
She sits down with her book and you realize she has nothing else to say. You huff out a breath and decide to go up to your own bed.
"One more thing, Elena," she calls when you're halfway up the ladder. She definitely did that on purpose.
You get down with a deep sigh, "What?"
Katherine rests her chin atop the spine of The Count of Monte Cristo. How ironic.
"Does the address 291 Warrenville Road mean anything to you?"
"No," you frown in thought, "Should it?"
"Maybe."
"What is it?"
"I got that from Isobel," she shrugs, returning to her book, "Now you know what I do."
You look up at the sound of your name and Bonnie raises a teasing brow.
"Are you okay? You're failing at this a bit more than usual."
"Hm?" you question as you look over the cards you two have set up. You squint suddenly seeing that most of the cards are out of place. "Are you cheating?"
"No, Elena," Bonnie's expression is concerning when you look back at her and she repeats, "Are you okay?"
"Yeah," you shake your head, giving her your full attention, "Sorry, just thinking."
"Anything I can help with?"
"Uh," you push away the thought of 291 Warrenville Road and decide to share something that's been clouding your head. "You remember that visitor I had yesterday?"
"Oh yeah? What happened?" Bonnie asks as she gathers the cards into a pile.
"Well, it was my lawyer," you sigh, giving her the cards in your hand, "He came to tell me my parents demanded a retrial."
"That's…" she starts out enthusiastic but then probably notices your face, "great? Shouldn't that be great?"
"No, Bonnie," you shake your head. It's understandable. The right assumption would be that they're doing it for you, they are your parents after all, but that just makes it hurt more. "I don't know what you've heard but the reason why I'm here really is because I… I umm…"
You trail off, unable to say it out loud. She nods fast at first, indicating she knows what you're talking about, but then a little slower as she puts the rest together. "God, Elena, I'm sorry. I can't believe… I mean, what do they want?"
You appreciate that she doesn't ask if you did it, especially now that you know your family believes you did.
"A longer sentence," your shrug has weight to it, "Death penalty. I don't know. I just know that I… I need to do something about it."
Bonnie offers you a sympathetic smile, "What do you plan on doing?"
"To be honest, I don't know."
"You'll figure it out," she says encouragingly and you'd wager she's thinking that you'll get some new lawyer, or somehow talk to your parents, or something along those lines. It's the logical things to think of, though you know logic is anything but what you're going to be using. "Any ideas?"
Yes.
"I'll tell you if I figure something out," you say and can't help feeling dishonest.
"Gilbert!"
You turn your head to see someone from across the room. Bonnie looks as well.
"You have a schedule!" the guard at the door calls to you, pointing to his watch.
You look up at the clock mounted on the wall.
"Aw, crap. Duty calls," you say a bit too quickly, bidding your friend goodbye, and making your way to the hall. It's time for your extra duty and you thank the timing of it. Some part of you feels bad that you can't tell Bonnie that you already have something figured out but you can't very well say: 'I'm hitching a ride on an elaborate exit plan with the twin I just met. Don't you worry about me.'
You follow the guard to the janitorial closet but don't bother to wait for him to leave before you start preparing what you need for the hall.
The next hour or so goes by in a normally steady pace and, other than some bimbo purposely stomping all over and dirtying an area you'd cleaned up, everything goes by smoothly. It isn't until you're in the janitorial closet, returning the soaps and such, when one falls off the shelf and drenches you in clean smelling goop.
Fuck! You grimace at the sludge now covering most of you, shoulder down.
"What happened—shit," a guard stands at the door, "I heard a crash. Are you okay? It's not acidic, is it?"
"No, just floor soap" you turn and thank your lucky stars it's not one of the stricter guards who would be more concerned at the mess rather than your well-being. "I umm, I'll get this cleaned up."
"Not like that," he shakes his head, "Go take a shower, I'll get someone to clean up this mess."
You nod, not about to argue. It's always a pleasant surprise to find that there are some decent people in Port Hill. You shake off as much soap as you possibly can so as not to leave a slippery trail when you make your way to the bathroom. Thanking the guard, you get to the showers in no time, grabbing one of the towels and a pair of clothes your size on the way. You'd just taken a shower that morning but you take your time regardless. It is still free time and as of that chore you don't have any obligations to go to.
Washing away floor soap feels much coarser than body wash but you feel extra (or maybe too) clean when you finish and wrap the towel around yourself.
"Hey!"
You jump and almost slip as you round one of the shower stalls.
"Don't do that!" you say before looking to who it is. You recognise her—brown hair, blue eyes, short, but you can't place a name.
"I got what you wanted," she reaches into her overalls and hands you a folded paper that you wouldn't have taken had she not been shoving it into your ribs. She looks around the empty room before continuing, "That's it, right?"
"Uh…"
"You wanted me to get that as soon as possible and look how fast I got it. So we're even now, right?" her pause isn't long enough for you to get a word in, "I had to pull some strings," she says, growing agitated, "Come on, Katherine."
You begin by shaking your head but nothing verbal comes out of your mouth. You feel like an idiot staring at her expectant face while you decide what to do because, to be honest, a big part of you is saying to take the paper and just let the girl mistake you for—
"What are you doing, Natalie?"
Katherine appears around the corner and Natalie suddenly pales a little.
"Oh shit," she mutters, grabbing the paper from your hand as if you had made a move to open it. "God, Katherine, I thought she was you. Here. It's all in there."
Passing the paper on, Natalie leaves in an embarrassed hurry. Katherine narrows her eyes at you in accusation and you fold your arms.
"How could I impersonate you? I don't even know what that is."
She doesn't look like she believes you but she unfolds the paper without a word.
"What is it?" you ask and Katherine looks to you over the top of the paper. Her expression falls as she continues reading and her lips form a hard frown.
"291 Warrenville Road," she replies, "Just a bit of legal facts."
"So what about it?"
Katherine raises a skeptic brow, "It's not ringing any bells? Not even with your stellar memory?"
"My stellar memory?" you ask, not quite sure she's pertaining to your eidetic ability. You hadn't mentioned it to anyone here and it's not exactly something you openly share. She doesn't elaborate. You shake your head, "Okay, stop with the bush beating. What makes you think I'm supposed to know this address? I've never even heard of it before this morning."
"Tell me then," Katherine hands you the paper and you take it, straightening it out so you can read. "Why the hell does that property belong to a Grayson Gilbert?"
A/N: Thanks for reading!
Also I didn't get to mention it before but thank you The Wandering Muse, Guest, Muse, DreaminOfLove22 and the more recent Guest for leaving feedback! You guys make my day! :)