All These Things I've Done (Birthright #1)(30)

‘No. She’d love it. She misses our daughter something terrible. So, hold tight, Anya,’ Mr Kipling said to me from outside my cell. ‘This will get straightened out, I promise.’

I nodded, but I wasn’t convinced. ‘You should know,’ I whispered, ‘Jacks Pirozhki was the one who gave me the tainted chocolate.’

Mr Kipling promised that he would look into it. ‘Let’s wait to tell the police about Pirozhki until we have more information. They’re obviously convinced it’s you, so we have to be careful. We don’t want to accidentally give them more ammo.’

‘I also had Leo destroy the rest of the chocolate,’ I whispered. ‘It was stupid. I wasn’t thinking. I was worried about them searching the house and finding the contraband.’

Mr Kipling nodded. ‘I know. Leo called me. The police were banging on the door just as Leo had gotten into Galina’s closet. There wasn’t time for him to do it.’

‘That’s good,’ I said. ‘I’m glad I didn’t inadvertently make my brother an accessory to whatever this is.’ My voice broke a tiny bit on the word this. I could feel a tightness in my throat that felt like the beginning of tears. I didn’t let myself cry, though.

‘Don’t worry, Anya,’ Mr Kipling said. ‘This absolutely will get straightened out. I’m sure there’s a logical explanation for everything.’

I looked at Mr Kipling. His eyes were bloodshot and his face was pale, even a bit green. ‘Are you feeling all right?’ I asked.

‘Just tired. It’s been a long day. Now, don’t you go worrying about me. I want you to try to get a good night’s sleep, or as good a night’s sleep as it’s possible to have in a police station.’ He gestured towards the metal bed with the paper-thin mattress and the scratchy wool blanket.

‘Pillow doesn’t look so bad,’ I said. It didn’t. It was surprisingly plump.

‘That’s my girl,’ Mr Kipling said. He stuck his hand through the bars and brushed my cheek with his index finger. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow, Annie. At the courthouse. I’m stopping by your apartment now just to make sure Leo, Natty and Galina have everything they need.’

The cops had neglected to take my platinum-gold cross necklace. I unclasped it and handed the necklace to Mr Kipling. It had been my mother’s and I didn’t want to somehow end up losing it or for someone to steal it from me. ‘For safekeeping,’ I said.

‘I’ll bring it back to you tomorrow,’ he promised.

‘Thank you, Mr Kipling. For everything.’ And by everything, I meant not even asking if I was innocent. He assumed I was. He always thought the best of me. (Maybe that was his job, though?)

‘You’re very welcome, Anya,’ he said as he left.

And then I was alone.

It was odd to be alone. At home, there was always someone demanding my time or attention.

I might even have enjoyed the sensation had it not occurred in a jail cell.

The next morning, a police officer drove me to court. Even though I didn’t know what awaited me there, I definitely remember feeling glad to be out of that cell. It was sunny, and on the ride over I was optimistic about everything. Maybe Mr Kipling was right. Maybe there was a logical explanation for everything. Maybe this would end up being little more than a vacation from school. The worst that would happen is I’d have a ton of work to catch up with afterwards.

When I got to the courthouse, Mr Kipling wasn’t there. I’d usually known him to be early for such matters, but I wasn’t that worried.

Frappe was in the courtroom, and another woman whom I assumed was the prosecutor. At 9.01, the judge came in. ‘Ms Balanchine?’ She looked at me, and I nodded. ‘Do you know where your attorney is?’

‘Mr Kipling said he’d meet me here. Maybe he was caught in traffic?’ I suggested.

‘Is your guardian here?’ the judge asked. ‘I’m aware that your parents are dead. Perhaps your guardian could call your attorney?’

I told her that my guardian was my grandmother and that she was confined to bed.

‘Most unfortunate,’ the judge said. ‘I suppose we could proceed without an attorney, though, as you are a minor, I’d rather not. Perhaps we should postpone?’

At that moment, a boy who didn’t seem much older than me came into the courtroom. He was wearing a business suit. ‘I’m sorry I’m late, Your Honour. I’m Mr Kipling’s colleague. Mr Kipling has had a heart attack and won’t be able to come to court today. In his absence, I’ll be representing Ms Balanchine. I’m Simon Green.’

As soon as he arrived at the table, he offered me his hand. ‘Don’t worry,’ he whispered. ‘Everything will be fine. I’m not as young as I look and I actually know more about criminal matters than Mr Kipling does anyway.’

‘Will Mr Kipling be all right?’ I asked.

‘They don’t know anything yet,’ Simon Green said.

‘Ms Balanchine,’ the judge asked, ‘are you comfortable with this arrangement? Or shall I postpone?’

I considered the question. The truth was, I was not one bit comfortable with this arrangement and yet postponing seemed like an equally bad idea – I didn’t relish another night in jail or somewhere worse. If the matter was postponed, they wouldn’t send me to Rikers Island, but there was a good chance I’d be sent to a juvenile facility while everything was sorted out. And it would be difficult to mind Natty, Leo and Nana from a juvenile facility. ‘I’m fine with Mr Green,’ I said.