A Word of Praise

Kiara was taken into custody by a surprisingly gentle officer, who didn't even cuff her to take her in. When she virtually told Chris to shove his crazy deal up his ass, she knew he'd make good on his word, but was kind of hoping he didn't. Despite the thrill that came by standing up to that man, she was absolutely terrified.

Having grown up around police stations, she thought it might be easier to face the whole going to jail procedure. But she was never on the perpetrator's side of the table, and it wasn't the same station she used to know like the back of her hand. It was a whole different feeling.

To make things worse, she didn't set foot in a precinct since her father's accident. She was quite sure the gigantic ball being cooked up inside her stomach had more to do with the faint memories of her childhood than the prospect of spending some time in a cell.

She remembered fondly how her father used to scold her for trying to sneak into the temporary holding cells of his station. Not her fault though, there was little she could do to entertain herself while he worked and there were rarely any occurrences in that part of the city. Well, not that rarely.

Kiara felt the lump growing when the memories stirred in that direction, so she opted instead to focus on the one-way mirror in front of her. The officer left her in the interrogation room promising to come back shortly, but those few minutes alone were not allowing for her to keep her cool.

She went for a technique that always got her into a peaceful state of mind, replaying her favorite routines in her head and thinking of minor changes that could improve both the performance and the message she wanted to convey. Russian climb, double footlock, kite split. Pose. Inversion, double crochet drop to knee lock. Maybe add a split? People love those damned splits. Split to Pegasus was probably an interesting touch. If she could...

"Kiara Winter?!" The startled voice brought her back from the secluded space she reached in her head. Her eyes widened with recognition, bringing her to stand from the metal chair a bit too hastily and almost send the object down to the ground.

"Uncle Harry?" She hugged him tightly, forgetting where she was for a second. He responded with a bear hug, but she backed away quickly when reality came knocking. "Hi, troublemaker."

She smiled, reminiscing about the many times he called her that during her most misbehaved years. It was either that or straight-up punk, but she knew it came from a place of love.

"Hi," she replied looking at the floor, knowing he would be a witness to another one of her shenanigans. Perhaps the most uncomfortable of them all, since she was a grown woman now. "Would you care to explain why I am standing here looking at a petty theft charge against you?"

"Sorry Uncle Harry" This was jogging up memories from her early teens that did nothing but increase the redness in her face. A particular memory came to mind, and she knew exactly what his next words were going to be. "Do you remember what I told you would happen if you ever got yourself arrested?"

"Don't come calling Uncle Harry from a prison cell, you'll waste your call."

"Precisely."

"I didn't call you," she murmured, feeling he would get angry but unwilling to let the moment pass. She hadn't called, he just showed up.

Instead of the disapproving sigh she expected, she heard a loud laugh that her ears hadn't listened to in seven long years but were just as soothing as she remembered.

She looked back up, trying to understand why he was not chastising her for getting herself arrested in the first place.

"Are you ok?"

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"Yes darling, I just missed your spitfire personality. How come you never called? I tried reaching out so many times, you just disappeared." The last sentence had a hint of pain that struck her right in the gut. She didn't have an answer for him. "I'm sorry."

"It doesn't matter, we can figure it out later. Come, tell me what happened."

Kiara explained the series of unfortunate events that led her there, subtracting from the story the vast majority of facts that would either earn her a nasty scold or make her even more embarrassed.

At the end of it, he knew she had stolen a ring from a rich man and gave it back, but the man pressed charges anyway.

"Ok Kiara, you are an adult now, so I'll talk to you as one. The man that called for your arrest is powerful, but he didn't strike with full force. I still believe you can get a lawyer and ask for a conciliation conference. Are you willing to do that? Can you face him?"

She was never good at hiding her emotions, so she had the hardest time trying to school her smile. Truth was, she wanted to face him. She was dying to see his explanation for throwing her in jail in front of lawyers and judges or whoever was present at this sort of meeting. It would be the ultimate delight to see him fumbling with the explanation of his deal, pressuring her to be his pretend girlfriend in exchange for freedom.

"Yes, I believe I can face him"

"Good. Now comes the hardest part. You must spend the night in the holding cell. They won't transfer you to an actual prison until the hearing, but it won't happen today. I can try to call in some favors to have you out by tomorrow, and then I hope you can sort it out in the conference."

"That's ok."

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"Did you hear me? You'll spend one night in jail. Possibly more."

She shrugged.

"Father never let me do that when I asked him."

"You are a lost cause, child. Your father would be..."

"Well, he isn't." She cut him off, unwilling to hear the end of that sentence. That was one of the reasons she cut everyone out after the accident. People were awfully keen on telling her what her father would or wouldn't do in any given situation, and she was just not having it.

She felt bad for causing that hurt look in Harry's eyes, but she had to cut some habits by the root. However, she was not willing to part with her father's former best friend on bad terms and opted for a softer addition.

"I am so glad you are here, Uncle Harry. I don't know what I would have done without you."

That did the trick. His smile came back, and he hugged her once more before leaving to take care of the paperwork.

She was scared to be left on her own again, even though she believed there were other officers on the other side of the mirror. She went back to the deep corners of her mind and allowed that sinking feeling to wrap around her. Spending the night in a cell would be terrifying without her dad there to let her out.