She waits a beat before answering. “Hit-and-run accident involving Angelica King. The evidence showed she was drunk. The woman died from the wounds almost instantly.” My heart pangs painfully as she lists my crimes with her detached tone, each word like a sharp knife stabbing me in the chest, because it paints me like such a monster.
Horrible human being who deserves the worst, because she doesn’t have compassion or a heart.
Except that’s not true—or at least I think it’s not true—but no one wants to listen to me. I sometimes wonder, what if I imagined all my excuses, and in truth, I did what people accuse me of?
But such thoughts are even scarier and more hurtful than the betrayal of my friends and husband, so it’s easier to believe in myself.
Otherwise, I won’t survive in this hell, and I desperately need to, because I have a reason to live.
“Right. The cold-hearted bitch who deserves to die, according to… well… everyone,” the older woman says, a smile curving her lips, and she gets up easily, to my surprise, walking to me and trapping my chin between her fingers. They dig painfully into my jaw, but I show no outward reaction.
You don’t show your weakness to enemies or they’ll find new ones.
She flicks the knife open—how is she even allowed to have such things here—and presses the tip to my cheek, gently sliding it back and forth, nipping my skin yet not drawing blood. “You’re too pretty. Should we leave a scar to welcome you aboard?”
The breath hitches in my lungs. I tense inwardly expecting some kind of blow, frantically thinking how to protect myself, but blink in confusion when she laughs, stepping back from me.
“Is this what you expected, child?” she asks, walking back to her bed and dropping onto it then picking her book back up and putting on her reading glasses. “Everyone in this cell minds their own business, and no one is a saint. That being said, there is a bounty on your head. You keep your eyes open, Phoenix, or nothing but ashes will be left of you.”
With that, everyone goes back to their things, giving me zero attention, and I go to the empty bed in the left corner, sitting carefully while rubbing my stomach gently without anyone noticing.
Although, this secret will be out sooner rather than later, but until then, I don’t want anyone to know about it. Being vulnerable in this place is not an option, and even if my inmates act normal…
There is a bounty on my head, and I don’t have to wonder who set the high price.
That’s why I need Sebastian to read my letter, in which I beg him to meet me, to listen to me one last time, so he can help me in this. The man I know wouldn’t turn his back on this one.
He might hate me, but he won’t hate what we created.
All my messages so far have been unanswered though, but I hope he will read the one given to him by my lawyer.
Then I can forever die in this place in endless agony as long as he makes sure the dearest thing to my heart is safe from any harm.
But until then?
I will keep my eyes wide open, just like the older lady suggested.
The loud ringing ricocheting through the cell snaps me awake and sends goose bumps across my skin. Instantly, a headache washes over me, reminding me of my lack of sleep earlier, and I wince a little with a low groan of distress.
I hear loud shouts from the hallway along with banging. “Everyone, get up. Breakfast in five minutes.” The lock is turned, and the doors open while the women inside the cell get up.
Haley twists her neck from side to side, sending cracking sounds echoing in the space. “That fucking new guard is so loud I’m surprised she still has a voice.”
The blonde woman chuckles at this, and I notice her stare on me, lifting her chin in my direction. “Name is Sara.” And she points at the older lady still snoring. “That’s Kathy. I’m not as nice as her.” I almost bark a hysterical laugh at this, because wasn’t the so-called nice woman holding a knife to my face last night? “So, if you bring any shit on us, I’m gonna cut your throat.” She does the cutting motion on her neck. “And poof, you’ll be gone.”
“You’d have to get to my artery for that,” I say, swinging my feet to the floor and notice how swollen my legs are. I didn’t get enough fluids in me last night, and now I’m paying the price for it. Wiggling my toes back and forth, it takes me a second to realize both of them are drilling their stares at me, so I elaborate. “If you want someone to quickly die, you have to go for the artery. The bleeding will be so severe it’s impossible for them to survive.” At least, I haven’t met anyone who lived through it so far in my life.
And probably won’t, because my medical career is over. There is no light at the end of the tunnel for me about this one. When this imprisonment ends, no one will give me a job.
A dream I busted my ass for disappeared in the blink of an eye.
Sara rubs her chin and asks, “So did you kill someone in the past as well and just got caught recently for another crime?”
“I’m a doctor.” I correct myself inwardly and groan at my stupidity for wording it like that. The last thing I need is adding another death to my reputation.
But then again, maybe in a place like this, such a reputation might be the thing that can save me. Or give me immunity status to some of the inmates. Who wants to threaten a killer, right?
However, I prefer to keep the fact that I majored in psychiatry to myself. Under normal circumstances, people might be uncomfortable in my company, thinking I study their every move.
Besides, I still know how to patch someone up, because I received the same medical training as everyone else in my first eight years of study, so how hard will it be to pretend?
Both of them blink and then shrug, banging on the door and motioning with their heads toward it. Haley says, “Let’s eat. Kathy—” She addresses the woman, shaking her shoulder a little until finally her eyes open. “—breakfast is ready.”
Kathy rolls to the side and flicks her hand away, silently indicating she’s not interested, I think.
The women share a look and then drag their feet toward the door, and I quickly follow, placing my hand on my stomach when its loud rumbling fills the cell.
I haven’t eaten anything since last night, and in my condition, it’s a big no-no, but then the courtrooms didn’t provide much food, and I managed to buy myself a sandwich before the judge froze all my accounts, collecting money from them to pay my fine.
Combined with how Sebastian left me without a cent, once I’m out of jail, I’ll have no reputation, no past, nothing.
Even the future as a free woman seems depressing to me, and how tragic is that?
As we go out into the hallway, I see other inmates coming out of their cells, all of us wearing the disgusting orange uniform, but strangely everyone is super calm. Some of them even smile to one another and laugh, while others swing their arms back and forth as if stretching while walking.
I shrink inwardly at the gloomy atmosphere. The gray and black walls hang above me like doom ready to strike me at any moment, while the different smells that float around in the air remind me of the foster home where food was always rotten, but no one gave a shit.
They knew we’d have to eat it anyway if we wanted to live, and you could never argue with a power like that.