Page 63 of On Your Life

“What do you want?” I ask.

I continue slowly down the steps, coming to a stop several feet away from them.

“You work at the prison, correct?” the other one asks.

What does that have to do with anything?

“Yes.” I keep the gun trained on them. “Why does that matter?”

They exchange a glance and nod. The man on the left reaches into his pocket and pulls out his cellphone. He starts typing and my grip tightens. The other man keeps his eyes on me, his dark eyebrows pulled into a hard line.

“We have a job for you,” he says. “This is your repayment plan. Any deviation from this plan and your mother dies.”

The man on the left stops typing and turns his phone toward me.

The room seems to shrink around me. My mother’s living room fills the screen. She’s asleep on her couch exactly where I left her. Unaware that her life is currently being bargained for just a few miles away.

“Fine,” I growl through clenched teeth. “What’s the job?”

They both grin. The man on the right leans back against the couch.

“Procurement.”

Chapter 33

Kira

My mind is all over the place. Every cell in my body is screaming at me to run. But I can’t. There’s nowhere for me to go.

My fingertips ache from chewing my nails down to the quick, but I barely notice the pain anymore. It’s easier to focus on that than the thoughts clawing their way through my head.

Maxie has asked me a hundred times today if I’m okay. I don’t know how many times I have to tell her that I’m tired and just adjusting to my new job before she finally gets the hint.

I know it’s coming from a good place. She’s concerned about me but I can’t risk her knowing.

I don’t even know exactly what I’m afraid will happen if she finds out, but knowing too much in here seems dangerous. And if I’m right, then telling Maxie would put her in danger too.

“Do you think we’ll have cake with dinner today? I’m dying for some chocolate right now,” she says.

Her voice knocks me out of the continuous loop of worst case scenarios plaguing my brain.

“I hope so!”

I try to sound normal. Instead, my voice comes out high pitched and fake.

Of course she catches it. Her eyes narrow slightly as she studies me but she doesn’t press. At least she got the hint.

“Those people are supposed to be here tomorrow, I think,” she whispers. “Do you think it’s as bad as Barb was making it sound? I feel like I remember the inspectors coming when I first came and it wasn’t that bad. I slept through most of it.”

“She’s probably just worried about what they’ll find. Maybe she’s just trying to look out for us.”

It’s the most logical explanation. Barbara doesn’t play around when it comes to this pod or any of the women in it. I don’t know how she gets away with always stepping between us and the guards without getting into trouble herself.

Maybe that immunity comes with time. Time I don’t want to have to spend here.

“Yeah, you’re probably right. I don’t know why they like to do most of it overnight. I wish they would do it during the day. I have to tend the gardens at like five in the morning so I’ll be exhausted,” she says.

I’m starting to wish I had held out for a gardening job. Not only would I be less exhausted every moment of the day, but I also wouldn’t have found photos of tortured women in some fucking potting mix.