She had managed to find some sleep last night, and was sitting on her bunk bed now, idly staring at the iron bars that made up the front of her cell. To the left and right were actual walls, painted in some neutral gray. Two light panels in the ceiling shed cold light over the room. The light didn't hurt her eyes, but she didn't like it, it felt unnatural to her.

  She also didn't like the uncertainty. It all depended if the police got the captured mobster to speak the truth, and confirm she had been forced, drugged even, to kill Tom. In the worst case she'd be in prison for twenty, maybe even thirty years. And with her problems to speak she barely could explain herself, much less defend herself during an examination. And who'd even believe someone with a voice like hers. On the other hand, she'd been in a twenty five year companion contract which could as well be prison, just a different sort and also at the mercy of the wardens good will. Tom had given her a lot of freedom though, at least while they had been together.

  The sound of foot steps woke her from her thoughts.

  Heavy boots came closer and soon a police officer came around the corner, towards her cell, "Get up beast and fetch your speaking crutch. Inspector Howard wants to see you."

  She sighed internally. Beast. The officers had to have this from the captured mobster, she had no other explanation why they now also used the word. Who knew what else he had told them about her. Lies probably. Yet, with her mutilated voice she didn't feel inclined to argue, so she just nodded, got up and picked the tablet with the speech synthesizer from the small table in her cell.

  "Good beast", the officer nodded with a grim smile, opened the door and waited for her to step out, pushed the door shut and grabbed her rather rudely at her left upper arm. She almost dropped the tablet and hissed at the man in protest. While speaking had become hard, hissing worked better than ever before.

  She felt pushed forward, "Don't try any shit beast, or you're dead. Just be good and walk."

  The walk was short, and without much ado she was pushed inside another room. A table, two chairs, and the obligatory lamp on the table. An interrogation room, and Inspector Howard was standing at the table, "Hello Vivian. Please sit down. I've got news for you." He pointed to the lone chair on her side of the table.

  She nodded and took seat, and he followed suit. On his side of the table was a cup of coffee, a glass of water was placed on her side. She focused and tried to speak clearly, "Hello 'nspector." Her voice was still all raspy and hissy, but she was getting better at pronouncing actual words.

  He gave her a brief nod and explained, "I think we found the place where they had kept you. With the data from the hovercar's autopilot we could track the safe-house. And the place matched what you've described in the protocol."

  She nodded and typed on the tablet, "Did you get the mobsters?" and hit the synthesize button.

  He moved his hand in an uncertain gesture, "We've got some and leads to more. Also a good amount of evidence of criminal activities, including illegal drugs. Maybe even the stuff you told us about, what they used on you. The final analysis in the lab is pending, so we must wait before we can draw conclusions."

  She typed again, "What will happen now?" and let the tablet read it out loud.

  He shrugged, "It depends if one of the mobsters speaks up or if the evidence is deemed solid enough to get clearing to perform a memory scan on them. Your case is being reviewed, maybe a hearing will be required for further clarification. I can't tell yet if and when that will happen. But we found something else too."

  He dug something from a pocket and slid it over the table towards her, "Your communicator. Means, if you have friends, you can contact them. Your calls and messages will be monitored though."

  Her communicator. Besides the few clothes that she had, the only thing of actual value and a memory of Tom who had bought it for her. She picked it up and looked at the reflective surface for a moment before she nodded and focused on her words, "Thank hu 'nspector."

  "Anything else you need?" Inspector Howard looked at her.

  She shook her head, still too embarrassed of her voice to speak if she didn't have to.

  "Alright. Officer Smith will bring you back to your cell then", he let her know and she just nodded.

  She heard the door open and got up to follow the man who had been introduced as officer Smith, just to find herself once more grabbed at her left upper arm once the door had closed behind them, "Move it, beast."

  She said nothing but nodded and was more pushed and shoved towards her cell than she walked, and actually was happy once the door snapped shut behind her. Speaking had become difficult, particularly under pressure, and protest often felt futile. Before she'd managed to say something comprehensible, it used to be too late to make sense anymore. But at least she had her communicator back, so she took a few more steps to sit down on her bunk bed and looked at the device.

  Now what though? What to tell her friends? A voice call was pretty much no option at all, but she could try to send a text message. So she booted the device and unlocked it. There were two new messages, from Frank and Trisha, both asking what had happened to her. She sighed internally. "I've killed Tom", was something she certainly did not want to write as explanation.

  "Hello Trisha, hello Frank,

  I'm arrested for murder. Tom is dead, mobsters drugged me and made me kill him. Then they killed my voice. I cannot speak properly. I'm now waiting for the judges decision if I'll be held liable, or to what extend. Please don't visit while I cannot speak, it's too embarrassing. I can't go out for sports either while under investigation.

  Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there.

  Greetings,

  Vivian"

  She looked over the lines a few times. Reading the message she felt she'd rather write nothing than this, but they deserved a message, so she hit sent. The police would screen the transmission, but she saw nothing wrong with it. It's just been some plain facts.

  She shut down the communicator again, not feeling ready to deal with any replies right now and laid down to get some rest. Maybe her voice would recover further if she just was patient and didn't stress it too much.

  Her slumber didn't last long, though. Metal was banged against the iron bars of her cell. The noise made her ears hurt and she covered her head with the pillow till the noise stopped.

  "Feeding time, beast", a voice sounded up, she could hear it even if muted by the pillow.

  She sat up and threw the pillow at the man who had just called her beast, but the iron bars stopped the pillow in mid-flight, "Ha have ha name!"

  Protesting with words had become a real effort. Each single word required her focus and most of them still failed to sound right.

  "Who cares. You've killed your caretaker. I saw the photos of the body. You're a beast. Now be good and fetch the food, I won't wait here forever", he told her.

  She got up and walked over to the door. The man had a bowl in hand, but it wasn't meat in the bowl.

  "What's th's?", she pointed to the contents of the bowl, trying to speak proper words.

  "Cat food. Bunny flavor. If you're good, you get tuna flavor tomorrow", the officer explained with a grin.

  She just nodded, took the bowl and the jug of water and returned to her bed. She probably could eat cat food and arguing had just become too difficult.

  "No thanks?" The man shouted after her

  She waved at him dismissively. The smell of the food was already in her nose and the hunger filled her mind. It smelled different from actual meat, not bad though. Just the texture was severely lacking. She ate it anyways and soon felt sleepy enough to just lay down, pull the blanket over herself and dream away.

  A day had passed without any news, then another one. She'd been doing some calisthenics to stay in shape, but also slept as much as she could. The uncertainty gnawed at her, and she wasn't in the mood to message her friends until there were actual news, good or bad. So sports to get tired, and sleep to recover it was.

  "Hey beast, Inspector Howard wants to see you", a voice woke her up. What time was it?

  She sat up and blinked a few times to clear her vision. That had to be officer Smith there at the door.

  "The name's Vivian", she tried to protest. Her voice had become better, she could say all vowels again, even the light ones in her name. Just instead of a melody all she had was an everlasting hiss and in general just no power in her words.

  "Yeah beast, I could almost understand that. Now come", he unlocked and opened the door.

  She hissed a little sigh and got up. Even if she could speak better, they just pretended not to understand her. As expected she was not allowed to walk by herself, but grabbed and pushed again, this time to another room which turned out to be Inspector Howard's office. And almost equally expected, the pushing ceased once the door opened and she was allowed to enter the office by herself.

  Inspector Howard looked up from his communicator and pointed to a chair in front of his desk, "Please take seat, Vivian."

  She took seat on the somewhat lonely looking chair in front of his desk, which was cluttered with papers, folders and at least half a dozen of coffee mugs, some which seemed to have been there for days, if not longer as her nose told her, "Good morning, Inspector."

  He smiled at her, "Ah, your voice is coming back. Much easier to understand you. And I have more good news for you. The analysis of the drugs was completed, and they match the traces in your blood samples, so the charges against you have been dropped. That's stuff they give wild animals to make them fight in arenas if they are not aggressive enough by nature. Illegal, needless to say. So, you are free to advertise yourself and look for a suitable guardian. You can use the terminals here in the police station for that. Bad news though, until you have a new guardian, you'll have to stay here."

  She smiled and nodded, "Good news indeed inspector", then her smile vanished, "But if I have to stay here for a longer while, I want to complain about the food."

  "The food?", Inspector Howard seemed surprised.

  "Yes. Two days ago I was given cat food instead of meat. Also everyone is calling me beast. I have a name", she tried to speak clearly.

  "Sorry about the cat food Vivian", Inspector Howard seemed apologetic, "I'll talk to the officers. But to be honest, they all saw the photos of Mr. Morgan, saw what your fangs and claws can do to a man. Half of them is scared of you, the other half hates you. Some both. And them knowing you will get off free doesn't really help your standing."

  "So, best I can do is find a new guardian soon?" She put much less effort in her pronunciation this time, it was just one long hiss.

  He nodded and put his communicator onto the cluttered table, "Probably. Can't force the officers to call you by your name, but I can try to make sure you get proper food. Anything else?"

  She nodded, "Yes, do you have any idea why they took Tom and me, and why they wanted Tom dead?"

  He shrugged, "Not much. They apparently extorted money from a lot of people, and Mr. Morgan was one of them. Why their eyes fell on you is hard to say. Maybe your past criminal record, or just how you failed the evaluation, your status as sapient animal. Maybe they thought you'd be useful to them, if they manage to press you into their ranks. Nothing solid though, just speculation."

  She nodded again, "I see. So, I guess I'll start advertising myself and try to find someone?"

  "Yes, that's the best you can do now. I wish you good luck with that, Vivian", Inspector Howard nodded to her.

  He got up and showed her to the door, where Officer Smith was already waiting. And of course, she got grabbed and pushed the very moment the door to the office closed, "Back to the den, beast."

  "C'mon. I'm a person like you!" She tried her best to give her words some power past a mere hiss.

  "Maybe once you were. They will never let you walk alone anymore and I already pity the one who takes you in. To know you're sharing a room with a killer. Not my thing, but good luck", he pushed her back into her cell and for a while she just stood there, tail limp and ears drooped.

  Then she walked a few steps further to lay down on her bed, the words echoing in her mind, 'to share a room with a killer.'

  It had taken her some hours to find the courage to actually post on the companion forum. Not that it was particularly hard. It was just very embarrassing.

  She glared at the screen.

  What a great way to advertise oneself. "Female feline looking for a companion contract to pay for voice restoration and trauma therapy."

  A few photos of herself with her cell as background and due to lack of alternatives, the outfit that she had been wearing when the police had arrested her. Prisoner uniform seemed to be an even worse choice.

  Then the summary, "Likes outdoor activities, running, jumping, playing fetch. Not good at ball sports. Not suitable for crowded places, concerts or similar events. Likes company and body contact, easy to keep. Voice damaged due to maltreatment by mobsters."

  She hit sent.

  She just had had this new body for a few weeks and not only she was handicapped now, but also had basically no life to show as reference to someone. And certainly a lot of good candidates were already running from the words "trauma therapy" and "maltreatment by mobsters."

  She would leave it at this for now and see what might come up.