"Dad! You seen my toothbrush?"
"Uh, in the bathroom?" the man shouts back from the kitchen. "It's not there?"
"No! And I don't remember putting it elsewhere!"
"Well keep looking! I know I didn't take it!"
Uh-uh, yeah, sure. She knows full well where she put her toothbrush this morning. Dad must have forgotten whatever he's done with it. Just like with his keys, they were about to change the lock when Taylor found them in the washing machine. Ah, well, it's about time for a new brush anyway.
She takes a half-empty pack from the cabinet and picks out a brush for herself, the pink one. New brush obtained, she continues with her evening routine, thoughts far away - fixed on the trip to Broadwalk that she and Ayano have planned for tomorrow. The last time was fun, though the teen has a distinct feeling that whatever it was that Ayano had decided to put off till the next day had had the girl stressing over it too much for her to really enjoy the movie. Or maybe she just didn't like the weird mix of sci-fi and gore that the film had to offer. She can sympathize, for a low budget movie (or so she was told anyway) the effects were good enough for bile to rise in her throat.
Still, it was fun hanging out like that. Aisha might have been a bit... much to handle, the younger girl being more lively than herself and Ayano combined. But being honest with herself, Taylor will freely admit she will let a lot slide if it means not being alone again. Having fun again. Though the fact that she enjoys herself thanks to somebody's death, even if the girl was one of her bullies, leaves a sour taste in her mouth.
The doorbell brings the girl out of her reverie. The hell? It's well past ten PM.
"Can you get the door? I'm still washing the dishes!" Dad shouts. She spits the foam out with a grimace, because really, she's kind of in the middle of something as well, and he's so much closer to the door than she is. Still...
"Yeah! Just a sec." Still, he's her father. And if he's already doing dishes then she can deal. Dishes are gross, and most of the time it's up to her to clean them. She wipes her face and walks down to the door, not caring that she's still in her pajamas, whoever it is out there should damn well expect people to be in their pajamas at this hour. She's only still up because she doesn't have to get up early in the morning, she's probably going to read a book before falling asleep too.
The teen looks through the peephole, because just who the fuck comes to your door around ten PM. Gangs don't have that much of a presence in this neighborhood, and besides, why would they-
Oh. It's the police.
...what are they doing here at this hour?
"Dad! It's police!" A sound of something shattering comes from the kitchen.
"Miss, open the door!" Ah, right. Right. She complies with the officer's request just as her father appears in the hall.
"Can we help you?" Dad greets the four men standing outside.
"Mister Hebert?" One of the officers, the superior apparently, points to Taylor's father.
"That's me, yes."
"We're here to in regards to the disappearance of one Madison Clements-" What? " and the Winslow murder to conduct a search of your house." A search? Isn't- aren't those meant for finding evidence of a crime? This doesn't make sense. And why would there be any need for four officers to be assigned for this? What happened to Madison?
Warily, Taylor takes a step back, partially hiding behind her parent.
"A search?" Dad's thoughts have apparently taken a similar path to hers.
"Yes, Sir. Here's the warrant." Dad takes the slip of paper from the officer's hand and after a brief once over, sighs.
"Of course." He moves aside to let the policemen in. "Why is my daughter a suspect in all of this?"
"I'm sorry, Sir, that's confidential information."
"Of course it is," murmurs the lanky man. He places a hand on his daughter's back and guides her to the living room where they sit down, their every step followed by the officer who delegates the others to the search. And why? Do they think they're going to try and hide something? That's – well to be fair that probably a fair assumption when dealing with criminals and should be a part of the protocol- but they're not criminals!
She fidgets in her seat for a few seconds, working her mouth, wanting to say something to break the suffocating silence but not knowing what.
"Madison is missing?" Yeah, terrific ice-breaker. She should totally ask about a dead relative next.
"Yes, her last known sighting was on Sunday. It's possibly connected to the Winslow murder." So why are they here? Is she-
"You suspect my daughter is involved in all this?"
"Strictly speaking, yes." Taylor blinks.
"But that's-" The girl starts.
"Taylor," Dad cuts in, eyeing the standing man with no small dose of hostility. "Stop talking. I know how these things go, and you're not obligated to say anything." The officer simply nods at his words. "They're gonna find nothing and just leave in an hour or two, best just wait it out." She narrows her eyes at him.
"You've been through this kind of thing before?"
"Taylor." Oh, right. Stay silent. Right.
She only manages a minute of fidgeting before reaching out for the remote and switching on the TV. Dad seems content to just wait and do nothing, but for her, the silence feels as if it'll swallow her whole. She switches to the news channel, nothing interesting there, but at least the presenters keep talking. The reporter is halfway through the day's summary when a new voice draws her attention away from the screen.
"Jack, we might have something here." They what? Taylor and her father's heads snap towards the officer coming back down the stairs with a book in his- no wait, that's her 'bullying diary'. The idea hit her a few months ago that she should start keeping a record of what's being done to her and by whom, to one day present it to the principal or... whoever would listen and help her with the shit that she has to go through because of the trio and the girls who... who... died.
Taylor's body goes rigid.
"Yeah? What is it?" The man – Jack, replies.
"Possible motive, total clusterfuck on all fronts no matter what if this checks out." Her notebook exchanges hands and Taylor finds herself having trouble breathing. Possible motive? She's been bullied for over a year and now she's a murder suspect to boot because of it?
"Miss, remain in your seat." The officer's voice is firm, stopping her in tracks from... When did she get up?
"Taylor?" There's an emotion underlying Dad's concern which she can't place. Panic? She doesn't answer. How? "Taylor, what's happening?" She doesn't know what's happening, that's what's happening!
"Miss Hebert." The officer who stayed with them snaps her notebook close. "You'll be coming with us for questioning."