"How Did Yo... Never Mind" (Part 2)

"That's not comforting."

"Wasn't meant to be."

Aurora pushed the door open.

Cold air slipped in behind her.

 He looked up.

She sat across from him. No soft start.

"You robbed seven banks."

"Yes."

"No weapons used."

"No need."

"No one hurt."

"No."

She held his gaze. "You made them trust you."

"I didn't force anything."

"That's not better."

"I didn't say it was."

Silence.

Aurora leaned back slightly. "Why turn yourself in."

"Because I'm done."

"That's vague."

"It's honest."

She didn't react. "Start earlier."

He nodded once. Took a breath.

"I was arrested at twenty-two."

Aurora's eyes flicked, just for a second--

to Mike.

Mike didn't move.

Didn't react.

But something in his posture stilled.

"I didn't do it," the man said. "Didn't matter. They had enough to close the case."

"How long," Aurora asked.

"Sixteen years."

The word sat heavy.

Aurora didn't speak for a second. Then--quiet, flat--

"That doesn't just go away."

"No."

Mike spoke then. Low. "What happened inside."

The man's expression shifted. Not softer. Just... Further away.

"I met someone."

Aurora exhaled through her nose. "There's always someone."

"He believed me."

Mike's voice stayed even. "Then matters."

"It did."

Aurora tapped her fingers once on the table. "And he taught you to rob banks."

"No," the man said. "He taught me how people work."

"That's a generous way to describe it."

"It's accurate."

Mike tilted his head slightly. "You trusted him."

"Yes."

"And you used what he gave you."

"Yes."

"And the accomplice?" she pressed. "You didn't pull this off alone."

There was a pause.

A small one.

But real.

"My wife," he said.

Aurora blinked. "You're married."

"I am."

"You involved your wife in bank robberies."

"She chose to be involved."

"That's worse."

"I disagree."

"Where is she."

"Safe."

"That's not good enough."

"It's what you get."

Aurora leaned back, jaw tight. "You involved someone you love in this."

He laughs, "She was my accomplice before she was my wife."

"That doesn't make it right."

"No. But it is a testimony to love."

Another silence.

He didn't argue.

Didn't defend it.

That made it worse.

Aurora stood up. "Stay here."

He gave a small nod.

Mike followed her out.

The door shut.

Aurora tuned immediately. "We can't just sit on that."

Mike leaned back against the wall. Quiet.

Thinking.

"He was set up," she said. "Sixteen years."

"Maybe."

"You believe him."

Mike didn't answer.

She exhaled. "He didn't hurt anyone."

"No."

"He planned everything. Controlled everything."

"Yeah."

She looked at him. "So, what are we doing."

Mike rubbed his jaw once. "We ask him."

Aurora frowned. "He's the one in custody."

"He's also the only one not pretending this is simple."

She held his gaze for a second.

Then looked away.

"...fine."

They went back in.

The man looked up like he already knew.

Aurora didn't sit this time. "What do you want?"

He didn't hesitate.

"Four years."

She blinked. "You don't get to pick that."

"I know."

"Then why say it?"

"Because it's what I'll accept."

Mike stepped forward slightly. "Why four?"

The man looked at him this time.

"Because I've already lost sixteen for something I didn't do."

Aurora's voice sharpened. "That doesn't cancel this out."

"I'm not asking it to."

"Then why turn yourself in?"

He hesitated.

Actually hesitated.

"I have a child."

The room went still.

Aurora sat down slowly this time. "How old?"

He shook his head. "Doesn't matter."

"It does."

"Not to this."

Mike's voice was quiet. "You don't want them growing up thinking this is normal."

"No."

Aurora stared at him. "So, you walk in. Confess. Ask for four years."

"I take responsibility."

"You're late on that."

"I know."

Silence pressed in again.

Mike spoke, almost like he was testing something. "You had plans before all this."

The man nodded. "Law."

Aurora looked up. "You were studying law."

"I wanted to pass the bar."

"And now," she asked.

A pause.

Then--

"Now I know better."

Mike's gaze stayed on him. "Still thinking about it."

A faint shift. Not quite a smile.

"Maybe."

Aurora leaned back, tired in a way she hadn't expected.

"You're asking for four years like that fixes something."

"It doesn't."

"Then what does."

He looked at the table for a second.

Then back at her.

"Nothing."

That landed harder than anything else.

Mike straightened.

Still unreadable.

Still steady.

"We'll see what happens," he said.

Aurora stood, slower this time.

Less certain.

At the door, she paused.

Looked back.

"You really think this makes a difference," she said.

The man didn't answer right away.

Then--

"Yes."

Aurora held his gaze for a second longer.

Then stepped out.

The door shut behind them.

The hallway felt colder.

Aurora exhaled. "I don't like this."

Mike nodded once. "Yeah."

She looked at him. "What are we supposed to do with him."

Mike didn't answer immediately.

Then--

"Figure out what's fair," he said.

Aurora let out a quiet, humorless breath.

"Yea," she said. "Good luck with that."

From the Author

I like to write
And read
And sing
And draw
And play the piano

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