Who: Amara Aquilla/Anna Malloy and Adam Malloy Where: NYPD When: Saturday, August 9th What: Trouble Rating: PG for language.
Amara sat quietly on a bench in the holding cell where she'd been left after her arrest. She half sprawled on the bench, everything bout her body language aggressive and angry. Inside however she was stifling the desire to draw her knees up to her chest and wrap her arms around them. She was not used to being in jails, despite her occasional thievery. That was necessary for her survival. She had no identification or papers, how was she supposed to do anything?
Given her lack of anything proving her identity and her rather thick accent, she suspected she'd be sent to immigration in no time. That wasn't too much of a concern, after all, she could burn her way through anything and get away, she just needed a chance to be alone for a moment and she'd be right back on the road. Amara supposed she could just leave now, but then some of the other women would want to come and that was just going to cause issues.
An officer appeared at the door "An..Amara Aquilla? Come with me please."
Amara nodded, figuring she was heading for immigration she followed the officer down a hall, through a door, through another door then another hall and then into a room where a woman in a suit was waiting. Wait, was she getting an attorney already? She hadn't asked for one, she hadn't even been formally charged. The officer left and the woman stood up. "Amara, I'm Agent Reider with the FBI. I work with missing persons. Please sit down."
Nodding, Amara sat down, a cold fear seizing her gut. Missing persons? That..that has to be bad. Fuck, had they tied her to the people of Nova Roma? How?
"So, your finger prints presented us with a match for an Anna Malloy. Does that name sound familiar?" Reider seemed nice, but Amara was still very wary.
"No," she stated firmly, coldly. She was not going to let this woman trick her into confessing something she didn't do. It was all Seline's fault anyway.
"Can you tell me where you were born?"
Amara nodded, very carefully explained her cover story. That she'd been born in a small village in Brazil, nothing remarkable and that she'd come to the US with a few girls from her village to try and find work as a maid. Reider simply nodded then took an old photo out of the file and slid it over to her. It was a picture of the Malloy's at Christmas. She was sitting on her mother's lap by a tree, her father sitting on the floor with her brother and sister sitting on him. She knew which one was her, but she had no memory of this picture. Rider slid a computer generated image over to her,one of those age simulated photos that looked creepily like her.
She pushed them both back, "None of these are familiar. Yes, it does look a little like me, but as I said, I was born in Brazil." What game was this woman playing?
"Amara, you are not in trouble. This is not a trap, your fingerprints match to Anna Malloy, who was kidnapped at the age of three and has never been found. It's my job to reunite you with your family. I've already contacted your brother, Adam. He is on his way here now."