Page 14 of H E R

Justice

Jule fidgets impatiently while Piper serves us tea. I watch her, enthralled by how she expertly pours the hot water from the metal pot into four fragile, tiny cups. I’m not a tea drinker, and neither is my brother, yet our hostess politely declined our inability to act like guests.

This meeting had turned into an evening chit-chat and not the aggressive scheme I had in mind. I had come here, pounded on her door with my overly grown teenage brother at my side, and then barked at her. It wasn’t until I realized she was dressed differently, in sweats and a hoodie, with a warm smile on her face while inviting us in, that I quieted and relaxed.

Her sister Macy sits in front of me, perched quietly with her hands folded over her lap, her tired and puffy eyes scrutinizing our every move. She is prettier than I remembered; her dark blonde, straight hair is combed ordinarily, and she wears simple, tight black sweatpants with a red t-shirt that saysVolleyballin white bold lettering on the front.

“Sugar in your tea?” Piper calls to us.

It’s all so fucking strange. Having tea in a meat shop. Sure, the place has been renovated, although its basic structure is still the same. The backside is turned into a rather small yet cozy living area, complete with one loveseat, two recliners, a coffee table, and a cot lying near the far wall with puffy, warm blankets folded neatly near the edge. A basic plastic table, I hope has never held raw or cooked meat on it, has a few basic pots, pans, two plates, two plastic cups, as well as a handful of spoons. I have no idea where Piper materialized these four tea cups from, and I don’t care to find out.

Jule nods to a question I’m not paying attention to–I’m much too engrossed with how this space has transformed in just one day.

“Thank you.”

My brother’s voice is husky, and it quakes slightly. Nothing too obvious for our two hostesses to spot, but I know my kin.

“Why don’t we cut to the chase, Piper? I’m not here to drink tea, so might as well get to it.”

Macy’s eyes grow wide with my outburst, yet she smiles politely at her sister while carefully cupping her tea as if it were flammable. She dares a look at me, and her cheeks burn red when she notices me looking at her. Her eyes drop to her tea as if she wants to shrink, dive into it, and drown instead of listening to me speak.

Piper sits next to her sister and plants my cup on the coffee table directly within my reach. I roll my eyes at her and she smiles when my brother takes a small sip. Something about the taste makes him grin like a fool, and I look away, ignoring the traitor.

“I know why you’re here, kid,” she says calmly.

I grit my teeth. “Did you tell those cops about me?”

“What? No! Why, did someone witness what happened?” Piper’s voice cracks, and something about the way she moves tells me she isn’t lying; she has no idea the cops are on to me. She sets her tea down, her eyes glued to my face. Next to her, Macy reaches for her hand, the blood drained from her cheeks.

“Apparently someone did,” I stutter, taken aback by their reactions. “Those two cops tracked me down, said they were told about the gun and everything.”

The cup in Macy’s trembling hand rocks. She picks her feet up and folds them up and underneath her.

“I thought you were here to persuade me to show the images on your blog,” Piper whispers.

“Well, that’s partly why I came, but only because I was confused. First, you didn’t want me to share the info, and then you tell the cops? It didn’t make sense.”

Piper throws an arm around her sister’s shoulders. “Yeah, well, it didn’t make sense ‘cause I’m no snitch.”

It’s as if she’s trying to control herself, but her voice increases in volume and the veins on her forehead pulse. This was the Piper I had met the other night, and it dawns on me that the only reason she was trying to control herself was for the sake of her sister. Who, unlike the previous day, is wide awake and attentive to our conversation.

I draw a deep breath. “Right, I get that now. Well, it must have been the person that called the sirens to begin with, I guess.”

“What is it that you’re not telling us?” I almost jolt out of my seat upon hearing Jule’s thunder-like voice. I forgot he was here.

“That’snone of your business. I’m going to ask that you please leave… now.” Piper’s voice morphs into a menacing, low growl. Macy buries her face into her sister’s chest, obviously terrified by our conversation.

I understand Piper’s eagerness to protect her sister, but Jule is right. There's something she isn’t telling us, and if it puts my family in danger, I have the right to know. I stand and signal Jule to do the same.

“Remember what I told you before–we’re on the same side here. You can trust me.”

Piper’s eyes glisten, and she buries her chin in her sister’s hair. “I’m sorry, kid. But I don’t trust my own shadow. What makes you think you’re an exception?”

I nod and turn to leave.

Forget her. If she doesn’t want my help, then her problems will no longer interest me. I have far too much to worry about to be concerned with helping out a pair of skinners that don’t want my help to begin with.

I’m mumbling exactly those words under my breath and reaching for the doorknob to the back door when I realize Jule isn’t by my side. I turn, panic-stricken, and see him place a small piece of paper on the coffee table.

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