My heart drummed against my chest as I waited in the interrogation room once more. I’d told the Strokes that I wanted to tell them something, that I wanted… to tell the truth.
I took a deep shaky breath as I tried to calm down. Anything could happen after I told them about my condition.
The door opened and one of the many people who had been questioning me walked in. Leslie followed behind him.
What were they doing here? I hadn’t even seen them since they brought me to the Strokes.
It had been so long since then that I couldn’t help staring at them as they leaned against the far wall and crossed their arms. Leslie’s alternating purple and yellow nail polish shone brightly against the grey shirt they wore.
“We’re waiting,” said the agent who was now sitting in the chair across from me.
“Right.” I glanced back at Leslie, wondering if maybe… I should’ve told them about this sooner.
“The truth is,” I began, “I have no idea why I’m here.”
The agent leaned back in his chair, eyebrow raised. “You practically admitted towuehitmenfs dhijormsedfhsts when the director confronted you about it.”
“That’s the thing,” I replied. “I say ‘yes’ to a lot of questions without understanding them. I…” I closed my eyes, biting my lip. “I have a defect. I only understand about half of what is said to me. Everything else comes in… garbled. I have no idea what I was saying ‘yes’ to when the director asked me their question.”
Leslie’s arms dropped to their side. The agent turned in his seat to look back at them.
Leslie gave him a quick nod, then the agent rifled through the folder he’d brought in and took out a piece of paper. He placed it on the table, his palm pressed against it as he spoke.
“Weeoisntuehdfsfijestis at Agent Simone’s request,” he said, sliding the paper towards me. “This is a transcript of a recording created by the machine called 216894.”
He removed his hand from it and waited. I glanced at the paper with handwritten words scribbled across it, then back at him.
I picked up the transcript to read through the conversation recorded there. As I read, I recognized it as the time I’d brought 216894 to the clock tower. It seemed like a perfectly innocent conversation to me. Until I read what I hadn’t heard 216894 say: “It’s wrong, you know. The System really does know best. She protects people from dangers like them. And that’s exactly why their influence must be erased, one Outcast at a time. Don’t you agree?”
And the next line of the transcript, my name written beside it to indicate I had been the one to speak: “Yes.”
The paper slipped from my hands, gliding down to the floor.
“I didn’t know,” I whimpered, tears sliding down my cheeks. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know what he was asking me. I’m sorry.” No wonder Leslie had been so angry.
A door slammed. I looked up at the sound to see Leslie had left the room.
“Yeusehtiojrmfshdfjnave no reason to believe you,” the agent said.
I sniffed and nodded. I understood now. No Outcast could possibly trust me after this.
To be continued…