I sat in a cold metal chair, staring at my reflection in the two-way mirror. My face was still red and splotchy despite the fact I'd stopped crying a while ago. Dried blood stained my grey t-shirt and light-wash jeans. Some of it was even on the edges of my face and in my hair from all the times I'd ran my hands through it on the way here. When we arrived at the station, I'd at least been able to wash my hands, but I could still see specks of rust in my nail beds and dried into the cracks on my fingers. The cheap pink soap wasn't meant for that particular task.
"The sooner you talk, the sooner you can get out of here," the agent sitting across from me said.
Alexander Lightwood. FBI Agent. Long-time partner of the man who played me.
"I'm not telling you anything without a lawyer," I repeated, looking at the back of his dark hair in the mirror's reflection. Valentine had engrained that one sentence into my brain in case anything happened. And this definitely constituted as something happening.
"Hodge Starkweather is preoccupied with your brother right now. He could be a while." His frustration was evident in his voice.
It was the downside to sharing a family lawyer, but it wasn't like I had much going on. "I can wait," I said, jiggling my right foot and trying not to think about the blood that also coated my shoes.
"Miss Morgenstern—"
"It's Fray," I corrected, not for the first time since he started his interrogation. In the beginning, he'd taken the "good cop" approach, offering me soda and asking if I needed anything to make myself more comfortable after the traumatic night I'd experienced. That wasn't getting him anywhere, so he changed tactics and was letting his true self show.
"Miss Morgenstern," he said pointedly, "just tell me what happened tonight and about your involvement in The Circle."
"Being a dick and calling me the wrong name isn't helping you, Agent Lightwood. If you want to know about my supposed involvement, why don't you just ask Jace or whatever the fuck his name is. I'm sure he has all sorts of dirty details he would love to share with you." I glared at the mirror. Jace was standing on the other side, observing our little chat. I could feel it in every fiber of my being.
I hadn't seen him since the warehouse when I'd recoiled from his touch and he'd given me a heartbroken expression as if he really cared what happened to me. It didn't take long for another agent to have me in handcuffs—against Jace's protests. Then I'd been shoved into the back of a cruiser and deposited here for Alexander Lightwood to question. I'd been a sobbing mess during the entire car ride but managed to pull myself together before being introduced to Agent Lightwood. Don't show any weakness; they'll take advantage of it, was another thing Valentine had told me.
"Agent Herondale's observations will be noted in his reports and taken into consideration," Agent Lightwood said, ever pragmatic. "There are two sides to every story. We are trying to hear yours."
I took my eyes off the mirror and met Agent Lightwood's hard stare. It was a shame such pretty blue eyes had been wasted on such a terrible personality. "You don't want to hear my story. You refuse to address me as anything other than Morgenstern, even though I have repeatedly informed you that is not my name. You've already made up your mind about me. To you, I'm guilty, and you're hoping I'll confess to something." I took a deep, stuttering breath and tried to reign in my angry tears. Show no weakness. "My father is dead, and I'm stuck here with some pompous asshole instead of having the space to grieve, so forgive me if I am not willing to play your stupid game. You are welcome to continue to sit here, but I am not speaking another goddamn word without my lawyer present."
He tried to engage me in conversation again, but I stayed true to my word and remained silent. Finally, he gave up with a huff and stormed out of the interrogation room. As soon as he was gone, I slumped down in the chair and went back to staring at the mirror, right where I knew Jace had been standing, and tried to figure out how everything could have gone so wrong.
Hours later, I was finally released. I didn't ask Hodge how he did it. Frankly, I didn't care. I just wanted to get as far away from the station—and as far away from Jace—as possible. Jonathan was still in custody, but that wasn't my problem. I could only hope he never got released. He deserved to wither away in a tiny jail cell, never seeing the outside world again.
Luke was waiting for me in the lobby with a nondescript baseball cap on his head and a pair of aviators hiding his eyes. I fought the urge to collapse into his chest and cry. Too many people were milling about, and my breakdown could wait until I was alone. For now, I needed to act strong.
"Were you taken in, too?" I asked quietly as he enveloped me in a tight hug. I couldn't recall seeing him in all the chaos, but I'd been focused on other things, like the knife that'd been placed in the center of my back.
He shook his head and checked that no one was listening. "Jonathan created a distraction to get me away from the building so he could confront your father. It ended up working out in my favor," he explained. "Hodge contacted me as soon as they started the paperwork to release you. Let's get you out of here before anyone changes their mind."
We walked outside, and I was immediately blinded by camera flashes. A group of reporters crowded the sidewalk, all of them trying to yell over each other to get my attention. Luke grabbed hold of me and pushed his way through, shielding me to the best of his ability. I stumbled along behind him, trying my hardest to block out the voices and clicking cameras as we made our way to the car.
My body didn't relax until the reporters were no longer visible in the review mirror and their shouts were a distant echo. I'd gone to plenty of high-profile events with my father, but I'd been granted access through back entrances and secret doors. Paparazzi and reporters weren't something I'd encountered before, and it was more than overwhelming.
"Fuck," I exhaled, my heart still beating frantically. "Is that what I have to deal with now? On top of everything else?"
"Hopefully not for long. Something new will grab their attention," Luke said gruffly. He'd run the gambit with Jonathan's scandals before. "I'm going to get you set up somewhere secure, but then I have to disappear for a bit."
I whipped my head in his direction. "Disappear?"
He kept his eyes on the road, his posture purposefully relaxed in a way that I knew was forced. "I wasn't arrested last night, but it's coming. Whether Jonathan implicates me or Agent Herondale does, I don't have much time. I have some contacts arranging a safehouse for you. We'll grab some things from your apartment and head out."
"No," I said bluntly. "No safehouse. I'm not running."
"Clary, I won't be around to protect you." Luke's hands tightened on the steering wheel. "If Jonathan gets out, if he sends anyone after you, you will be entirely on your own."
His words were meant to scare me, but they didn't. Jonathan could come for me for all I cared. I'd lost my father. The man I loved turned out to be a lie. Luke was leaving. The whole world now knew the secret I'd spent the past decade hiding. Things really couldn't get worse at that point. If I hid, Jonathan would think he'd won. He'd think I was afraid of him. But neither of those things were true.
"I can handle myself," I said confidently. "I don't need a safehouse. Take me home."
He understood my meaning and glanced at me out of the corner of his eye, failing to hide his surprise. "You sure?"
I nodded silently, watching as the street lights blurred by. I was instructed not to leave the state, but nobody said I couldn't leave the city.
The air was still and quiet, the only sound being that of the crickets chirping in the tall grass. I looked up at the house I hadn't visited since I was a teenager. It hadn't changed, and I knew the inside would look the same as it did all those years ago. The deed might have been in my name, but Valentine ensured the upkeep of the house. He'd hired gardeners and a cleaning service to stop by every week and continued to pay the utility bills in case I ever needed to return. I always thought it was unnecessary, but now I was thankful for his overplanning. In the back of my mind, I wondered if he knew something like this would happen.
"Are you sure about this?" Luke asked again. "There is still time for you to change your mind."
"I need to do this," I stated after taking a deep breath. I might not be running from Jonathan, but I wanted to run from Jace. This was the one place that hadn't been tainted by him.
Luke nodded in understanding and set my bags on the porch. We'd made a few stops along the way. One to my apartment so I could grab clothes and toiletries. They were stuffed haphazardly into an old duffle bag I'd pulled down from the closet. I had been careful to avoid anything that would remind me of Jace, which had been difficult with signs of him all over my apartment. His sweatshirt on the back of the couch. A spare blue toothbrush on the bathroom counter. A pair of muddy sneakers by the front door. An open bottle of his favorite wine on the coffee table.
The other stop had been to a grocery store. The kitchen would be empty, and I knew I wasn't going to want to leave for a while, even just to run down to the local mart. With the media frenzy, I needed to lay low for a little bit.
"I don't know how long I will be gone or when I'll be able to contact you," he said. "I promised your father, and your mother, I would keep you safe. Don't make a liar out of me."
"I won't." My voice cracked, and Luke wrapped his arms around me.
"'Til next time, kid," he said quietly, ruffling my hair like he used to when I was younger. He'd never been one for tearful goodbyes.
I stayed standing on the porch until Luke's taillights disappeared down the street. Gathering my belongings, I entered my childhood home. I didn't take in any of my surroundings as I walked across the wooden floor and up the creaky stairs. The past waited for me in every photo on the wall, every paint drop on the rugs, and every mark on the furniture, but I wasn't quite ready to face it all yet. Bypassing my old room, I slipped into Jocelyn's.
Everything was the same as it'd been a decade ago, right down to the perfume bottles on the dresser and the outdated floral bedspread. The only difference was the room no longer smelled like her. Her soothing scent of oil paint, peonies, and raw honey had been replaced with lemon floor polish and fresh linen laundry detergent.
Looking at the simple, four-poster bed, I kicked off my shoes. As a child, I would always sneak into her room after a bad dream, and life felt like a very real nightmare at the moment. I stripped out of my clothes and climbed into my mom's bed, my father's blood still staining my hands.
Surrounded by Jocelyn's presence, I finally allowed myself to fully and completely breakdown, wishing for nothing more than to wake up in her comforting embrace and discover this had all been a horrible nightmare. I cried for the mom I lost too soon. I cried for the father who tried his best to love me and make me happy, only for me to never appreciate it until it was too late. I cried for the love that was built on lies and deception. I cried for Luke, who was the one constant person in my life, driving away to possibly never return. And lastly, I cried for the girl who had never felt more lost and like she would never be in control of her own life.
Thank you for all the great reviews on the last one. I got scared with how many of you left one and thought maybe everyone hated it, but it seemed to be mostly positive! With the big reveal out of the way, there's still about 7 chapters left. (: