Tomorrow.
The word made me sick.
I never looked back as they led me through the side door.
Tink was still sitting in the witness chair, staring at me with guilt written all over his face.
But he shouldn’t have felt guilty.
None of this belonged to him.
It belonged to me.
CHAPTER 22
“Holiday, get up. You have a visitor.”
I lifted my head from the thin mattress, my neck stiff from hours of lying motionless. The guard’s voice echoed down the cellblock with the same flat indifference I’d heard a hundred times since they’d brought me in.
The cot creaked beneath me as I stayed prone, every muscle tense, every nerve firing. In here, you didn’t jump at commands. You moved on your own time, made them wait if you could. It was one of the few things you still controlled.
“Holiday! I said you have a visitor. You have exactly sixty seconds to get down here,” the guard yelled.
“I heard you the first time,” I called out, pushing myself up slowly.
My ribs ached. They had been ever since those officers slammed me on the floor in my bedroom. I pressed a palm against my side, and I swung my legs off the bunk as I listened to the guard’s footsteps retreat down the corridor.
I ran a hand through my disheveled hair, trying to pull myself together, though I knew it was futile. There wasn’t much I could do about my appearance anyway.
The orange jumpsuit hung loose on my frame, and the lights in this place made everybody look ashen. I caught my reflection in the small metal mirror bolted to the cell wall. My cheekbones looked more prominent now, and exhaustion had hollowed out my eyes.
I stared at myself for another second before looking away.
Jail aged people fast.
It wasn’t just physical either. Jail wore your spirit down little by little until even your own face stopped looking familiar. Every day in this place felt the same. Cold food. Colder walls. Women arguing two cells over. Guards barking orders like we weren’t human enough to deserve regular conversation.
The worst part was the quiet. Not actual silence. Jail was never silent. Still, the silence settled inside you when there was nowhere left to run from your thoughts.
I swallowed hard and stepped toward the bars just as the guard returned.
“’Bout damn time,” he said, unlocking the cell.
I ignored him, stepped out into the hallway, and then we were off.
The closer we got to visitation, the more I wanted to turn back around. I knew who was here to visit me. I just didn’t understand why she kept trying. I was a disappointment, and on top of that, I was still angry with her for lying to me.
The guard led me through three sets of mechanical doors before finally stopping outside the visitation area.
“Five minutes,” he said flatly.
I frowned immediately. “Five?”
“Judge’s orders after your little courtroom performance.”
I laughed under my breath. “Man, fuck y’all.”
He opened the door anyway.
