Grace and I headed inside, and I spotted Angela and her parents waiting in the reception area. I took a moment to look around. If things went according to plan, this would be my future workplace. It was busy, with lots of serious-looking people in dark uniforms milling about.
“Thank you so much for coming,” Angela said as we approached her. She’d been discharged from the hospital, but she still didn’t look like she should be out and about just yet. A smaller, more discreet dressing covered her neck wound, and the colour still hadn’t fully returned to her face. She looked like she needed to spend a week in bed binging TV shows and eating all her favourite comfort foods.
“Anything you need, I’ll be there,” I said as I hugged her.
A tall man with silvery grey hair appeared. There were several badges affixed to his lapel, which told me he was high ranking. “Hello. I’m Sergeant Davis. I’ll be guiding you through the procedure today. If you’ll all just follow me.”
Grace and I shared a glance as we followed the sergeant up a set of stairs and down a long corridor. We were then brought into a small, dark room with a glass window covering an entire wall. The room on the other side of the glass was empty, and I reached out, taking Angela’s hand into mine. She shot me a grateful look, and then a selection of men began entering the room behind the glass, forming a line as they stared straight ahead. I spotted Vasilios right away, though it looked like he’d glamoured away his horns. Without them, he looked almost human. Well, except for the yellow eyes. Those definitely weren’t human.
I studied Angela as she took in the line-up. Her chin wobbled as she bit hard into her lower lip. Her grip on my hand loosened, and I worried this all might be a little too much for her. She stepped away from me. Was she going to bolt?
She didn’t. Instead, she walked closer to the glass, peering through it as she ignored the other men in the line-up and stepped right in front of Vasilios.
“That’s him,” she said in a quiet voice. “That’s the man who attacked me.”
There was a tangible feeling of relief in the room as Sergeant Davis approached the microphone and instructed the line-up to file out. He turned to address Angela’s parents. “Can I speak with you both outside for a moment?”
“Of course,” her dad replied.
My attention was still on Angela as the sergeant and her parents stepped out of the room. She didn’t look well as she brought her hand to her head. I hurried to her.
“Are you all right?”
She didn’t respond right away, just shook her head.
“Do you have a headache?” Grace asked.
“Yes, I … I feel a little bit strange.”
“In what way?”
“I don’t know … I just feel like I can remember him attacking me, but there are gaps like my memory was hastily wiped, and I can only see snapshots.”
“It wouldn’t be difficult to use a spell to wipe her memories,” Grace surmised, and I nodded.
“We should mention this to Sergeant Davis.”
“No!” Angela begged. “My parents are already driving themselves crazy with worry. I don’t want to stress them out further.”
I chewed my lip. “Well, how about I hang back and tell Sergeant Davis after your parents take you home?” I suggested. “This is important information the Guard should know about.”
She seemed to relent a little. “Okay, so long as my parents don’t hear.”
A moment later, they returned and ushered Angela out of the viewing room. As promised, Grace and I hung back.
“Can I have a word?” I asked Sergeant Davis. He looked like he was eager to get started preparing the charges against Vasilios.
“Of course, Miss Cristescu,” he replied. It figured he knew exactly who I was, or well, who my parents were.
“Angela said there are some gaps in her recollection of the attack. She thinks that Vasilios might’ve cast a spell to steal some of her memories,” I said, and the sergeant’s expression grew even more severe.
“Thank you. That’s important information. I’ll make sure he’s interrogated about that the next time we question him.”
“Have you gotten much out of him so far?” I asked.
“I can’t disclose that, I’m afraid.”
My gut sank. I wanted to know everything going on in the investigation, but I knew someone as serious and professional looking as Sergeant Davis was hardly going to tell a teenage girl what Vasilios had revealed in the interrogation room.
“Is that all, Miss Cristescu?”
“Yes,” I said, then corrected myself, “Wait, no. I do have one more question.” He arched an inquisitive eyebrow. “Does the Guard ever take in early recruits, or do I need to have completed my schooling first?”
He appeared surprised by my question before the barest hint of a smile edged his lips. “New recruits are required to have their full diploma.”