innocent until proven guilty

Last time I had seen R. she was freaking out. She looked like she had just been out of prision. Well, actually, she had. I took the opportunity to talk with her again at the kitchen table, while we waited for A. to get out of the shower. There were pots and pans everywhere --resting in the sink, piled up in the cabinet, hanging from the wall. R. was holding a glass of water in one hand and I was sipping through my morning coffee. I decided to stop talking about trivial bullshit and go straight to the point. I really wanted to get her version of the story.

-You don't mind my asking, right?

She kept saying "it was, basically, all my fault" and I kept insisting "It was not". A. had previously warned me about her sensitive emotional state after they had been bailed out. Innocent until proven guilty was her current legal status. Innocent until proven guilty of assaulting a police officer and resisting arrest. They had let her, A., and the other girl out without bail, but not her brother. Their parents had come to the rescue, paying twenty-five hundred dollars to get him out. They were now trying to live normally until their court day.

I had already finished my coffee but still I sat there willingly. I kept asking questions to feed my creative process.

- I'm sorry I'm making you go back to this whole thing... - I apologized.

-If it's for artistic purposes then it's okay. - she replied.