“Soft mental compulsion,” the woman from the Wardens said. “Those affected weren’t controlled like a puppet, but they were under threat, much as if there was a gun to their heads or the heads of a loved one.”

“Thank you. The Wardens, corroborating witnesses and others have given us their input on this. It’s a thing, this compulsion, but it’s not a thing we can prove was in place.”

Rain raised his hand again.

“Rain?” the woman with the frumpier clothes asked.

“I don’t want her power to be a mitigating factor. I do want to make sure that woman goes to jail and stays there for a long time, that’s the only reason I brought it up.”

“Have a seat, Rain,” the woman said. “Let’s have a conversation.”

“A conversation?” he asked. He took his seat.

“I do think we want to talk about that, but let me start off by saying what our goal is here. When a case crosses our desk, it’s our job to decide if it’s worth the time of a proper court. If we say yes or no, that doesn’t mean it’s a for-sure yes or no.”

Rain nodded.

“My personal view is to imagine four cases. If I put yours with them, is yours going to be the standout case? Manslaughter, murder, arson, and grand theft are serious things. I think yours might stand out.”

“Yes ma’am.”

“You’re turning yourself in. I imagine your lawyer advised you that if you kept to yourself, you might fly under the radar. It’s a lot easier to recommend your case to the courts for processing if it’s a plea.”

“He did tell me that.”

“Why turn yourself in?” she asked.

“Because—” Rain started. “Before that thing at the mall happened, I was a kid, it felt like a long, unpleasant dream. I was raised with these people, they chose what I read and what I watched for most of my life, and I was raised in compounds like the one that was attacked last week, or in small towns, or cabins. Nobody really questioned, nobody said any different. But then the mall happened and for the first time I had to make a choice.”

“Elaborate,” the man with the nice hair said.

“I was told to guard the door of the mall. It was left so I could open it if I had to. I knew… I knew it was a trap. I was threatened, told not to open it no matter what, but I realized that if I didn’t open it then I’d be in trouble too. I still didn’t open it, even when I realized people were hurt and scared. That’s not okay, and I deserve to be punished.”

“Were you compelled?” Kimberly asked.

“Um. By Mama Mathers, you mean?”

“The soft compulsion,” she said. “Mama Mathers, yes.”