THE DOOR OPENED. It was Picard and LaForge again. Mischa didn't know how much time had passed. Her best guess was three hours, perhaps four. She was dehydrated and nauseated and completely off the scopes. She was, she assumed, just like they wanted her.620Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ00lCr82XIs
It was about control, after all. Manipulation. They held all the cards, Picard and LaForge, and Mischa Barton had none. None except her complete innocence, if that counted as a card. She hoped that it still did.
"I need to use the restroom and I need some water," she said.
LaForge shook his head dismissively, as if her request wasn't even in range of reasonableness. "Not until you---explain to us."
That wasn't going to happen. She'd spent the last few hours steeling herself. Don't say a word, she thought. Wait for a lawyer, no matter how long it takes. What in the hell was she doing talking to these assholes? They didn't have anything on her. They couldn't possibly.
Keep telling yourself that, thought Mischa.
"I want a lawyer," she said yet again.
"You do not have that right," said Picard.
"Do the French still have to prove people guilty? Or did you do away with that, too? Will I even get a trial?"620Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡKpUAHbWH11
LaForge held up a large plastic bag and walked over to her. Inside was her black purse.620Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡU0wUJGkadX
"This is yours?" he asked.620Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡr3pzjDZe8c
She stifled her initial instinct to respond. She'd just spent the last few hours promising herself she would stay quiet.620Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ9nzXlcTAAx
LaForge looked at Picard. "A simple question, I would think."620Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡjwMcVswvUj
"It's my purse," she said.620Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡsFS8MiTJ9M
LaForge, wearing a smug expression, returned to the door, where he made an exchange with someone in the hallway and returned with the second bag.620Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡbfQLyhsvJA
It held a handgun. Not the one Renaud had last night; this gun was smaller. He displayed the weapon to Mischa with pride, watching her reaction. She didn't know how to react.620Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡOrCEttnEW3
"So? It's a gun."620Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ6aO7xORwCc
"It's your gun," he said.620Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡWqjJr91qiB
"No, it's not. I don't own a gun. I've never seen that thing before in my life."620Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡmfkAirXsVH
"Why do you lie to us? Admit it. Admit that this your gun."620Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡfR7r2G9nmM
"Fuck you!" said Mischa. It felt good, empowering.620Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ6CI8YveFZv
He held it closer, mere inches from her face, shaking it for emphasis.620Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡjORROWW3wY
She turned her head. "We've got nothing more to say to each other."620Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ6E0IrR1263
"Nothing more. Nothing more. I am---so sorry to hear that. I had hoped you could explain something to me."620Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡHMOBIXEF9C
Mischa looked at him. "Yeah? What do you want explained to you?"620Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡHK94IoaeRH
He leaned into her, a gleam in his good eye. "This gun that you say is not yours? If you would please explain to me why we found it in your purse?"620Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡkhswAkT4Fk
