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.627Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ7Kom9CZqtr
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?"627Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡgJWCaL7m5Y
LaForge held up a large plastic bag and walked over to her. Inside was her black purse.627Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡjpf5JxxPmR
"This is yours?" he asked.627Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡlyKaCNgOLx
She stifled her initial instinct to respond. She'd just spent the last few hours promising herself she would stay quiet.627Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡkUnu0OmRHm
LaForge looked at Picard. "A simple question, I would think."627Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡH9Qbiboqcw
"It's my purse," she said.627Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡcA7ryOtwyK
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.627Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡGI2jLcp4O0
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.627Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡVnDC1UtDmD
"So? It's a gun."627Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡhuREC2TRqG
"It's your gun," he said.627Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡliC5XUMTYX
"No, it's not. I don't own a gun. I've never seen that thing before in my life."627Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ52x84oL02s
"Why do you lie to us? Admit it. Admit that this your gun."627Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ7ggq9S7hJJ
"Fuck you!" said Mischa. It felt good, empowering.627Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡIKvJPhflcV
He held it closer, mere inches from her face, shaking it for emphasis.627Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡNv2LuBdkez
She turned her head. "We've got nothing more to say to each other."627Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ18JIz409Pf
"Nothing more. Nothing more. I am---so sorry to hear that. I had hoped you could explain something to me."627Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡkmQQsHmI28
Mischa looked at him. "Yeah? What do you want explained to you?"627Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡHK1EywlsPW
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?"627Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡWN0IihgGVC
