Chapter Text
Zulema had known that there would be consequences. She was no fool. She had killed Hierro. They thought she had killed Sandoval. Of course they would assume that, even though she didn’t do it, but it wouldn’t be worth it trying to deny that she killed him; it wouldn’t change anything.
They had beat her like a dog when they had stormed the patio. Having heard from the tied up guards that it was her who was responsible for the death of Hierro, the policemen had grabbed her first. Two of them had yanked her up and when she automatically tried to free herself, a third one had hit her ruthlessly with his truncheon. The blows had hit her right into the abdomen and after three or four of them her body had gone slack, the terror, both mentally and phisically, of the last 12 hours taking it‘s toll on her. Then she had thrown up, twice, right where she was standing, and it was only when she had tried to straighten herself again, that she noticed the others. Saray, Macarena and even Rizos had left their places at the front of the group and were now being held by policemen right in front of Zulema. And all of them had been looking at her. She didn’t have time to define each of their expressions – and she still tried to tell herself that it really didn’t matter to her – but she thought that they all had been wearing a look of… support? She couldn’t be sure of that, though, it had all happened so fast; suddenly, a blow directed at her head had made her double over and after feeling herself slowly loosing the grasp on reality, she had let the lingering darkness take over her sight.
The next thing she remembered is finding her hands and feet tied to a chair that was fixed to a wall behind her. The chains that restricted her were so tight that she found herself almost completely unable to move so she had settled for waitng because she really coulnd’t do anything else. That was some hours ago, maybe one or two. Now she was still sitting in that chair, obvoiusly, but she was no longer alone in the solitary cell.
Inspector Castillo had come in a few minutes ago and had taken a seat opposed to Zulema‘s chair. Then the door had been closed again and they were alone. Since then they had just looked at each other. It was only now that Castillo started to speak.
"Ay, Zulema", he said and shook his head. "I must tell you, I wasn’t surprised when I heard that it was you who started this riot." He looked at her like he expected her to say something but he she saw no reason in having a chat with Castillo so she stayed silent. He continued nevertheless. "What did surprise me is that you killed Hierro. I mean, none of this was really his fault, you know? He was quite a nice guy. A shame, really." Zulema clenched her jaw. This time she couldn't hold her tounge.
"He should have tried to stop it", she said. They both knew what she was referring to. Not the riot, obviously, nobody would have been able to stop that. But the things that had led up to it could and should have been prevented.
"He wouldn’t have succeeded", said Castillo.
"I know. But I thought he… he should have tried." Damn, she really needed to pull herself together. Castillo studied her face for a moment, then he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his thighs.
"You liked him, didn’t you?" Zulema’s body shot forward and she instantly cursed herself for that reaction; her stomach felt uncomfortably tender with every movement she made and the chains dug painfully into her skin.
"No!", she snapped. Castillo didn’t even blink.
"But you didn’t want to kill him."
Zulema took a breath and slowly leaned back in her chair again. "What does it matter. I did kill him. Nobody cares if I wanted it or not. I did it."
"Yes, you did. And Sandoval?"
Zulema just shrugged her shoulders. "Can’t deny that he deserved it", she said.
"But did you do it?"
Oh, couldn't he just shut up? "Let’s put it that way: I gave him the final push."
Castillo sighed and rubbed his forehead. "Alright. Well, I guess it won’t be any surprise for you but you won’t be staying at this prison. Killing the director, or whatever role you played in his death, kind of disqualifies you for that." Zulema watched him as he slowly rose from his chair. He was right, she had expected that she wouldn’t stay in Cruz del Norte. And at this point she didn’t even care about it.
"You will be transferred tomorrow, to a high security prison. And please, try not to corrupt the guard driving you this time. That really brought us all a lot of trouble."
"What trouble did it bring you?“, Zulema asked, raising her brows. "Did your daughter die?" Castillo’s eyes softened and she wanted nothing more than claw them out of his face. She hated that expression. Pity. His words accompaniying it only made it worse.
"I’m sorry about that, I truly am." She didn’t say anything to that. Castillo turned around and slowly moved towards the door. The hand already on the handle, he turned around one more time.
"Ferreiro, Kabila and Vargas will be transferred with you." That, however, did surprise her.
"Why?" Castillo pressed the handle down and shot her one last glance.
"They all testified having murdered Sandoval." Then he was gone. Zulema didn’t notice that she was laughing until the sound of her laughter echoed in the small cell.