Conversation

 We both sat there, on opposite sides of a table so polished I was almost surprised I couldn’t see my reflection in it. The lights were dim, but still brighter than the phone flashlight I had been using to navigate. I blinked, waiting for my eyes to adjust. I wasn’t being recorded (at least, I didn’t think I was), but this was an interrogation, no matter how much he tried to hide it.

 He folded his hands neatly in front of him. He wore gloves, but I knew he probably manicured his nails just like Max did. Or he taught Max to while growing up. But his whole demeanor was much less genuine. Finally, he spoke.

“I hope things have been going well, Ms. Bishop. I am truly regretful we had to meet under these circumstances.”

 His voice was warm and reassuring, without a hint of menace or malice. A wolf in sheep’s clothing, if there ever was one.

 I felt a lump in my throat and tried my best to ignore it - he wouldn’t hesitate to have me landed in prison or Meadowbrook if he thought no one would notice. “They... they really haven’t, actually.”

 He looked the very picture of saintly sympathy. One of my hands curled up into a fist under the table - anything to stop myself from crying, then and there.

“That is certainly sad to hear.”

He closed his eyes and let out a small sigh, looking very much like a disappointed parent. “Now, I understand that you have been through a lot lately. And we both know what happened was a tragedy, it really was.”

 I struggled to keep quiet - yet he continued. “Understand that I mean no harm.” My hands began to shake, and my thumb cramped as I dug my fingernails into the palm of my hand. “You have been through a lot of pain, and while that explains your behavior, it does not justify it. These childish amusements-”

 I saw red - I stood, hands now in an enraged white-knuckle grip against the side of the table. “Childish amusements? Am I a joke to you?!” I felt pain lace my already sore throat - I stopped yelling, but tears had already started dripping down my face. Of all possible times, I had to cry now?

 Although my vision was blurry, I could see that he still seemed calm, unmoved. “Oh dear. I didn’t think through my wording properly, did I? You’re a perfectly capable young woman. I should’ve acknowledged that.”

 I could only glare at him.

 “I am, however, fully aware that this is by no means a joking matter. You do realize that I could easily press charges for breaking and entering, correct?”

 I froze. I knew he’d do it in a heartbeat, plus try to frame me for something worse, but for some reason him mentioning it made it all the more terrifying. I forced myself to nod. “Yes, sir.”

His smile made me feel even more afraid. “Excellent. Now, Ms. Bishop, if you wouldn’t mind sitting down, I think I know exactly how to resolve this issue.”

 I wiped the tears from my eyes as I sat back down, doing my best to compose myself. “I… guess I’ll have to listen?”

 He drummed his fingers gently on the table. “Unfortunately. Be aware that not everything you heard about me is necessarily true. When someone prefers their privacy, people spin wild rumors - and present things as facts that simply aren’t accurate to begin with. Silence tells the loudest truth, so I suggest this; I will drop any and all potential accusations - in fact, I will support your alibi for being here, if anyone asks.”

 I shifted in my seat as I tried to figure out what he’d want - there had to be a downside, there had to be. “...and what’s the catch?”

 Ever so slightly, his smile widened. His shadow lengthened, looming as he leaned towards me. “I merely ask you to tell no one of what you have seen, or heard, about me. I did not reach my current status through unsavory means - I worked hard for it. I refuse to lose it to silly campfire stories.”

He lowered his voice, and his face suddenly looked stern. “I wish to keep the peace above all else, Ms. Bishop. But make no mistake - there will be consequences for disobeying. Do you understand?”

 I hated it. My proof, the evidence to finally set things right - my entire reason for being here was gone. All this effort had been for nothing. “I understand. Sorry for bothering you, Mr. Kingsley.”

He smiled again. “Oh, it’s okay. I’m sure you’ll forget all about this misinformation in no time. I’ll have someone get you back home. Wouldn’t want a young lady out and about in this storm, would we?”

 As I got into an actual limousine, I had never felt worse in my life.