Chapter 34

Anson Banks sat at the edge of the bed looking at a photo on his mobile. It was a selfie of both Amber and himself taken during his high school graduation. His graduation hat was lopsided, and she had on a goofy grin; how happy they had been then. It was a picture worth a thousand words.

“There you go,” Kirk the policeman stood back up, taking the cuffs from Anson’s ankles. “You’re a free man now.”

A free man…the words danced around his mind like gypsies around a bonfire. Only the fire was too bright and too hot. He winced at the words knowing that his freedom came at a price—a price that his sister was paying for with her own freedom.

Anson sighed and slipped the phone into the back pocket of his loose khaki slacks. The bandages had come off, but his skin was still raw and extremely sensitive. Part of the skin on his thigh had been scraped off when he hit the asphalt in the accident and because of that, the doctor had advised him to wear loose and cottony fabric so as not to aggravate his skin.

“I guess I am,” he said and came down from the bed looking at the lanky policeman who hummed to himself, seemingly in a good mood.

Anson’s eyes lingered on the shiny cuffs that hung from the policeman’s pocket. His case was cleared, he was no longer a suspect of the Vincent Rodriguez case and because of that he was free to go. He was, as the policeman called him, a free man. Anson should have been relieved and happy, but he was not. Instead, his heart felt heavy, as if an invisible ball chain was shackled to his heart.

Fabian Williams had paid for his hospital bills, going as far as to hire a physiotherapist which Anson didn’t feel he needed. The man hadn’t been back since their little talk that day though and Anson’s only visitor had been a teary Margaret who broke down twice, once upon seeing him lying on the bed and once when they spoke of Amber. 

“Kirk,” Anson called out. Kirk the policeman looked up and smiled, happy that Anson got his name right the first time. Everyone else kept calling him Dirk.

“Yeah?”

“Did you manage to find out who stole your outfit that night?”

The policeman stopped in his tracks. He could have sworn no one knew about THAT incident. Kirk frowned as he tried to find the right words, “How’d you know?”

Anson swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat, wondering if he was out of his mind. Amber’s trial was today, and if he could just remain silent, everything would be over, His nightmares of rotting behind bars would end, and his future would be bright like the sun once more.

Think about it. What have you ever done for your sister?

Fabian’s question echoed through his tortured mind as his heartstrings tugged at his conscience. It was true; all his life, he had never really done much for his sister. Even when they were young and penniless, Amber would always save the best for him, from the only chicken thigh she managed to buy after slaving away as a dishwasher to buying him his favorite magazine on her own birthday to giving up her education for the sake of his.

She did more than that, his conscience reminded him. She sold her dignity to Fabian Williams and she’s giving up her life for you, you asshole!

He clenched his fists, fighting back the tears that were pooling in the corner of his eyes. It was his fault. Why on earth did he do something so stupid that night? That single moment of rage had ruined everything. EVERYTHING!

“Anson?” Kirk called his name again.

“Huh?” Anson looked up and realized that his fists had been clenched so hard he shredded his palm.

“How’d you know?” the policeman teetered, and a look of worry plagued his face.

If I don’t tell, I’ll be ruining Amber’s life. If I tell, I’ll be ruining the cop’s life. Fuck! Anson sucked in his breath, feeling exasperated and wishing he could just disappear in a cloud of smoke like the Genie from Aladdin. But the Genie too had been a prisoner of the lamp, just as he was a prisoner of his own doing.

He closed his eyes for a moment and exhaled. It was time for him to do the right thing. He’d been running away from his responsibilities and hiding in Amber’s shadows for far too long. It was time to step up and be a real adult. It was time to finally do what he should have done a long time ago.

When Anson’s eyes finally opened, his emerald irises were replaced by a look of resolute, “Kirk, I’m sorry. It was me. I stole your outfit.”

At that very moment, Kirk’s mobile rang, It was a call from Detective John Grant.

***

“Say, you look kind of pale. Sure, you don’t want to call for a doctor?” Amber’s inmate hugged at her cell bars, giving Amber a worried look. Amber had been vomiting so much the whole day she put Linda Blair’s performance in ‘The Exorcist’ to shame.

“No, I’m fine…must be something I ate,” Amber shook her head as she splashed water from the cell’s standalone sink onto her face.

“Something you ate? Pfft! You didn’t even eat anything at all!” her inmate rolled her eyes.

Amber stood up and straightened her ponytail. Her hearing had been abruptly pushed up by two days, but it didn’t matter. In fact, the faster the sentence was carried out, the better it would be for Anson.

“I’ve never seen anyone so eager to go to a hearing before,” her neighbor continued and the female police officer who stood outside her cell nodded in agreement.

“Sweetheart, you do know that prison will be very different from this detention center,” the police officer banged at the cell bars with her baton, making clanging sounds as she eyed Amber solemnly.

“This,” she waved around her, “is considered a vacation. And the prison?” She shook her head solemnly, “The prison is a hell hole. You DON’T ever wanna go there.”

Amber walked towards the door of her cell and forced a smile even though all she wanted was to bawl her eyes out.

“I’m ready for the hearing ma’am.”

The officer sighed as she unlocked the door, allowing Amber to step out of her cell, “Sweetheart, I’m telling you one last time. You gotta fight for your innocence, this is a lifetime of imprisonment we’re talking about.”

“Yeah!” her inmate seconded.

But as Amber stepped out of her cell, she caught a whiff of the officer’s perfume. It was a very light fragrance, a wonderful mixture of mint and citrus but somehow, the smell nauseated Amber. The perfume assailed her nose and her stomach cramped involuntarily, as if it were suddenly filled with heaps upon heaps of decayed meat. She pressed her hands to her mouth and dashed back to the cell’s sink only to heave acidic green bile into it.

Nearby, her inmate took a step back and pinched her nose, “Ew…you’re just like my mom when she got pregnant with my little brother!”

Pregnant? Amber’s eyes went wide. No….