Break the Chain by J.S. Morin

Author:J.S. Morin
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-1-64355-011-4
Publisher: Magical Scrivener Press

Esper sat on the bed in her cell.

Her cell.

The idea that she had her own cell in an honest-to-goodness jail felt out of place in her life. It reminded her of those times as a teenager when she’d come home from the cosmo—new teeth in her mouth, different colored eyes, breasts that had doubled in size. Not her.

But this wasn’t some criminal gang locking her up for ransom or as a prelude to execution. She wasn’t being used as leverage or a hostage. Above and across a pastoral stretch of manicured lawns was an organization intent on enacting completely legitimate and legal justice. On her.

If she sat all the way back, with the edge of the bed tucked against the backs of her knees, she could keep her stocking feet off the floor. She kicked them idly, alternating, for lack of any space to exercise.

Steps from the corridor brought her alert. It wasn’t the heavy tread of the meal deliveryman. The hard clacks were the high heels of Eleanor.

Esper brightened.

She had, near as she could tell, one ally in this mess. If anyone were to mitigate the charges against her to the point where Esper might have some life left after her sentence, it would be Eleanor Wexcombe.

The attorney signaled, and one of the jailers came over to unlock the cell. He used a heavy iron key that looked like it would fit the kind of lock any holovid thief could pick with a hairpin. Probably magic. Probably not worth trying.

“Good morning,” Eleanor greeted her. “Were you able to sleep?”

Seeing no point in lying, Esper answered truthfully. “Sleeping’s not the problem. It’s still being here when I wake up.”

Eleanor’s lips twitched. “I’ve been briefed on the powers of the Tome of Bleeding Thoughts. If you can resist the temptation, I’d advise against retreating into your own head at night. The guilty sleep peacefully, or so the saying goes.”

“You want me to look haggard?” Esper asked.

“Not haggard, but this whole bright-eyed and bushy-tailed motif you project won’t help you. A braggart shows off a lack of concern. A penitent prisoner crumbles. An innocent one quietly rages. Take your pick of the latter two.”

Esper took a long breath. Even her cell was going to become a part of her defense, it seemed. “All right. Can I just say, regardless of what happens, thank you? I know you’re doing this pro bono.”

“I’m what, now?” Eleanor asked, brow knitting severely. “I’m court-appointed, not court-funded.”

Esper felt the chill of death’s hand clutching her spine. “But… my accounts. They must have frozen them.”

Eleanor patted the air with a hand. “Your arrest was kept quiet by official sources. But there was such a scene that it couldn’t be quelled entirely. Within a day of your apprehension, a legal defense fund went up on the omni. Anonymous donors contributed a suspicious amount of money. Fortunately for you, the Parks-King Act protects the identities of donors. Leave it that my firm is being sufficiently funded to provide a proper legal defense in this case.

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