"And I know every second of this illegal arrest is being documented." Ray's knuckles whitened on the steering wheel as he pulled away from the curb. Students pressed against the school windows, watching the squad car leave. Maya caught a final glimpse of Evan waving mockingly before they turned onto the main road. The drive to the station was tense and silent. Maya focused on memorizing every detail, the time, the route, every word spoken.
Her shoulders achd from the awkward position, but she sat perfectly still, giving Ry no excuse to claim she was uncooperative. They pulled into the station parking lot where Rey yanked her out of the car with the same unnecessary roughness. He marched her through a side entrance past several officers who barely glanced up from their desks. "Sit," he ordered, shoving her into a hard plastic chair next to his desk. "Don't move." Maya watched as Rey dropped heavily into his chair and pulled out an arrest form.
His pen scratched across the paper as he filled in the basic details with angry strokes. Name, age, school. Then he reached the line for parent guardian information. His pen hesitated. Maya saw his eyes narrow as he read her last name again, more carefully this time.
Ray's pen hovered over the form, his confidence wavering as he read the name Kingsley again. A cold sweat broke out on his forehead. Something about that name. Officer Blake Turner appeared suddenly at his desk, faced tight with concern. He leaned down and whispered urgently, "Sir, Judge Kingsley is on her way.
That's her daughter." The pen slipped from Ray's fingers, clattering onto his desk. The color drained from his face as the full weight of his actions crashed down on him. He'd just arrested a judge's daughter. Not just any judge, Delila Kingsley, whose reputation for fierce justice was legendary in their district. What did you say?
Ray's voice came out horsearo. "Judge Kingsley called the front desk directly," Blake continued, his words rushed and nervous. "She'll be here in 10 minutes. She's She's furious, sir." Ry shot up from his chair, nearly knocking it over. Through the glass partition, he could see Maya sitting calmly in the holding room, hands still cuffed behind her back.
She met his panicked gaze steadily, and he suddenly realized she'd known all along what was coming. The station erupted into anxious activity. Officers, who had ignored the situation minutes ago, were now huddled in whispered conversations, shooting worried glances toward the holding room. Ry paced, running his hands through his hair, trying to figure out how to justify his actions. "Should I remove her handcuffs, sir?" Blake asked quietly.
"No," Ray snapped, then lowered his voice. "No, she was arrested properly. We're doing this by the book." But his words sounded hollow even to himself. There had been nothing by the book about storming into a school and arresting a minor without cause, without proper procedure, without even speaking to school administrators. First, the station's front doors swung open with decisive force.
Judge Delila Kingsley stroed in, her heels striking the floor like hammer blows. She wore a charcoal suit that radiated authority, and her expression could have frozen fire. The room fell silent. Ry straightened his uniform and stepped forward, trying to project confidence he no longer felt. Judge Kingsley, I can explain.
Where is my daughter? Her voice cut through his words like a blade. Ma'am, there was an incident at the school. Officer Lauren, she interrupted, each word precisely measured. I asked you a simple question.