Play With Me

don’t think so.”
    Huh? And I
thought he was my friend. My best you-evil-bastard scowl only coaxed out his
lopsided grin before he tousled my hair.
    When Judge Abe
cleared his throat, all eyes returned to him. “Miss Montiniere, I’ve followed
your criminal progress for nearly a year now. As I was informed, you will be
released from the Westminster Children’s Home in less than seven weeks.” He
pulled his glasses off his nose and placed them carefully on the stack of
papers. “This gives rise to serious concern. With a criminal past like yours, I
doubt not a second that you’ll be out on a robbing tour of London as soon as
your eighteenth birthday arrives.”
    Criminal past?
Hello? I only nicked from the rich to give it to the poor. In this particular
case, the poor was me. “Shouldn’t a person in your position exercise his office
without prejudice?” I had hardly spoken the words when Quinn’s fingers dug
painfully into my shoulder. 
    The judge let my
statement go by unnoticed. He only drew a deep, slow breath. “To prevent the
worst, I should let you stay under house arrest in the orphanage and delay an
official accusation for your latest theft until you turn eighteen. In that
case, I would have full authority to send you to prison.”
    Holy shit.
    He paused to
smile, and I wished the watchdog at my side would unshackle my hands so I could
scratch the judge’s glassy eyes out. “But as it is, I’m pleased to welcome your
mother in this room today. We had an unofficial meeting this morning, and I’m
glad—”
    “You were the
traitor who called her to this meeting!” I jumped from my seat, cutting his
sentence short. A siren went off in my head, tuning out common sense.
    “Sit, Jona,”
Quinn barked through clenched teeth. His palm on my shoulder pushed down hard.
I whined, but gave in to his strength.
    “And I’m glad,”
Abe continued as if no one had interrupted him in the first place. “She told me
about a relative of yours in France who offered to give you a home and a place
to stay for as long as you wish. Your aunt and her husband own vineyards there,
and you will do charity hours on the grounds every day until you come of age.”
    The judge had
gone nuts. This was the only reasonable explanation for such nonsense coming
out of his mouth. “You’re going to ship me off to the continent? Like a slave?
You can’t do that! It’s illegal.” It had to be. Right?
    Abe quirked one
brow, not answering my assumption. “Since serious health issues made your
mother dependent on other people’s help, she currently lives with her sister in
France. We see this as a great opportunity for you to get to know your
biological family and maybe tighten the bonds anew.”
    Tighten them
anew? How could they be tightened if they didn’t exist in the first place?
Nothing existed in this life that could form or tighten anything between me and
my mother. Let alone a bond. No contact with that bitch and her pet, thanks.
And where the hell did this said aunt come from? I’d never heard of any
relatives in Britain, France, or elsewhere.
    If I jumped up
in protest again, Quinn would only have pushed me back into my seat. Instead, I
raised my right arm, like a good little girl, to draw the judge’s attention.
Annoyingly, with the cuffs on, my left hand lifted, too.
    “Please, take me
to prison instead.” My request came out dry and emotionless. Dead earnest.
    From above,
Quinn glared daggers at me. I cut a glance at him, but then studied Abe’s old
eyes again, awaiting his final adjudication with an empty pit in my stomach
growing fast.
    “I do believe
you graduated from high school last spring?”
    Not knowing what
Abe’s question could have to do with my punishment, I nodded. My marks in math
had been lousy, but at least I did it.
    “And currently
you aren’t taking any summer classes in Miss Mulligan’s Children’s Home?”
    “No.”
    “Then you are
going to live with your family.” The bang of his little wooden hammer slamming
onto the small round plate sealed the matter. “Now get out of my courtroom and
don’t come back.”
    I was so
screwed.
    When they
started making plans over my head, and voices mixed to a painful blur, Quinn
let me wait outside the room. I had to promise not to run off or pick up a
fight with an officer again before he opened the door for me. I restrained from
giving him the finger and slipped out.
    Elbows propped
on my bent knees, I sat on the floor in the