Coerced
I fall to my knees, the air escaping from my lungs. I clutch my chest as if trying to keep it from slipping away.
My tears—God, my tears—why won’t they stop? They flow like a broken faucet, relentless and unyielding.
“Lily, honey,” a blurry figure calls out.
“Stop! Don’t touch me! Stop it, stop it!” I cry, my hands gripping my head. “Stop it, stop it, stop it, stop it!” I repeat over and over.
God, why? Why is this happening to me?
I thought I was better. I thought I was fine.
What happened?
"You look worried, Agent," he says. "If you're afraid I'll let her get away, don’t be. I don’t tolerate her mistakes, I promise you that."
"Then… what are you doing here, sir?" I ask, keeping my tone calm.
"I'm here to make sure her father doesn’t find out she was arrested. And I’m here to make a deal with you."
"What kind of deal?"
"I’ll tell you, but your team must be part of it. The DA too, of course," he says with a smile.
I nod, and he smiles at my agreement as I ask someone to call Rossi and the rest of the team.
"Who’s watching her?" I ask.
"Oh, don’t worry, Agent. She won’t do anything stupid—now that she knows I’m here."
We all sit down while waiting for the DA to arrive. I glance at Mr. Jardin, wondering what kind of deal he wants to make. A few minutes later, the DA walks in.
"Mr. Jardin, what a surprise seeing you in D.C.," the DA says as he takes a seat.
"Well, my niece said she in a bit of trouble."
"The ambassador’s daughter? What’s her name again… Rose, right?"
"Uh, no. His other daughter, his youngest."
"Ah," the DA says, nodding in understanding.
"One to five years in prison is the usual punishment for this kind of crime, right?" Mr. Jardin asks curiously.
"Yes, sir, but clearly, you want to lower that," the DA replies.
"Yes."
"I thought you were here for a deal," I start, but he cuts me off.
"That would still make her father wonder why she’s in prison, and I believe one month isn’t ideal for you either," he says.
"No," Rossi says, clearly unimpressed.
"Sir, we don’t think any of your offers will sit well with my team," I state firmly.
"Relax, Agent."
At least now I know where she gets her attitude from, it must run in the family.
"You’re looking for a media liaison, right?" Mr. Jardin asks.
"Yes," I answer.
"Well, she could be it. And if you ever need an extra agent in the field, she’s your girl," he suggests with an actual smile.
"We’re not firing any agents, sir, and we don’t have the time to train her," I argue.
"Oh, well, you won’t have to train her. She had formal training when she worked for the CIA," he says casually.
"Even if she was a trained agent, she’s not a profiler," I counter.
"Media liaison then?" Mr. Jardin offers.
"That’s alright with me," the DA agrees.
"Did they really just make that decision by themselves? Just the two of them?" Tara mutters.
I roll my eyes at the situation. I can’t believe she’s going to work here, nepotism at its finest.
We walk back to the interrogation room, where Eve sits with her head down on the table.
"Evelyn," Mr. Jardin says as he enters the room, taking a seat across from her, never breaking eye contact.
"Hey."
"I got you a deal."
"What kind of deal?" she asks warily.
"Well, since you can’t go to jail, you’ll work here instead as their media liaison. It’s a great offer, and you’ll take it. You can finally put that degree of yours to good use," he says with a judgmental tone.
"Excuse me? I’d rather go to jail."
"Then what did you call me here for, if not to get you out of this mess you made?"
"So, Dad wouldn’t find out," she says with a frown.
"Eve… he’ll know you went to jail, even if I helped you. So please, take the offer. You’re a smart girl, make a smart choice for once in your life. If not, I’ll personally call your father," he says, his voice so serious it could make anyone’s hair stand on end.
"I already have a job. Two, actually. I can’t just quit them," Eve argues.
"You’ll have to. And besides, those jobs are stupid anyway. You’re too smart for them," he says with a smile.
"I have kids depending on me to get them out of horrible situations. I can’t leave them," she says, pity in her eyes.
"Those kids are the reason you’re here. Now sign before I make that call," he says, sliding the papers toward her. "Be a smart girl, Eve. Don’t be a disappointment to your father," he adds with a forced smile—the kind you’d only see on a politician’s face.
She really doesn’t have a choice. She signs the papers and hands them back to him, looking up at her uncle with defeated eyes.
"There. Can we go now?" she asks, sadness in her voice.
"We can. But first, you need to know when you’re starting," Mr. Jardin says, satisfied. "Agent Prentiss," he calls out.
As I walk in, Eve doesn’t even look up. She just stares into the abyss like she’s lost everything. My voice finally catches her attention.
"Can you start next Monday? We need to orient you."
"Yeah," she replies flatly.
"Alright. You’ll start Monday. Come on, then, let’s go."
"And everything will be taken care of?" Mr. Jardin asks.
"Yes, of course, sir," the DA confirms.
Eve stands up, looking completely beaten down. I guess she really cared about those kids. If she didn’t, she wouldn’t look like this, and she wouldn’t be here at all. I guess I’ll find out soon enough if this was all an act or if she was telling the truth.