A Way Out of the Room

She is twenty-one and she has been in the building for four days. The leaflets have been matched to the duplicator. There is no version of this where the group is not finished.

The man questioning her has decided she is not the problem. He has been unexpectedly patient, and he keeps offering her the same door: she is a young woman, she was swept along, her brother is the one who wrote them. Say that. Say she typed what she was given and did not understand what it meant.

It is almost true. Her brother did write most of them, and he is already condemned. Nothing she says can make his position worse.

If she takes it, she may live. If she takes it, the leaflets become the work of one reckless man and his confused sister, which is exactly how the court will want to describe them — and every student who read one and felt something will be told there was nothing there to feel.

He slides the paper across the table again.