Page 64 of On Your Life

My heart speeds up thinking about those photos. I see their faces again. Those empty eyes and horrible collars. The way they looked like someone had reached inside their bodies and scooped out every last piece of them that made them human.

My stomach churns and heat crawls up to my cheeks. I need to think about something else before I start crying and really set Maxie off.

“I’m going to make a call, okay?” I say.

She gives me one last once over before nodding. That look of concern never completely leaves her face.

I walk toward the phones and dial the number. She picks up by the fourth ring.

“Hello?”

“Hey, mom. It’s Kira.”

I force as much happiness into my voice as I can.

She chuckles on the other end of the line. The sound makes me feel infinitely better.

“I told you that you don’t have to tell me who’s calling,” she says. “You’re the only one we know in prison.”

“Oh. Right.” There goes my mood. “Any news?”

The silence that follows is all the answer I need. She replies anyway.

“No. We are still trying, though. Things like this take time, especially since no one wants to take the case.”

She repeats the same thing I have been hearing for months. Conflict of interest. Who knew lawyers would decline money for something so trivial.

“I’m never getting out of here am I?” I sigh.

“Don’t be like that, Kira. A pity party won’t get you anywhere. We haven’t given up on you and you shouldn’t be so quick to give up on yourself.”

She’s right. I know she’s right. That doesn’t make it any easier to believe.

“I’m not. I’m just tired, I think. I started a new job cleaning offices overnight, and it’s probably just getting to me.”

“That’s great! Keep your head up and take care of yourself. I’m always here if you need me, remember that,” she says.

“I will.”

I’m not sure who I’m trying to fool, me or her.

***

I want to turn around and go straight back to my cell. Instead, I keep walking.

I need to figure out what’s going on with those women. My thoughts have been filled with nothing but their faces. Every time I try to distract myself, I see those photos with blood running down their chests from those horrible spiked collars and my mood is ruined again.

Whoever did that to them deserves a fate worse than death. I’m going to get to the bottom of it. Fox can play the ignorance card all he wants, but I refuse to ignore this. What else do I have to do in this literal prison?

The beep from the badge reader echoes down the hallway. The sound feels unnaturally loud in the empty corridor.

I push my cart through the narrow doorway. It catches the frame and hits the opposite wall. I leave it there and speed walk to the office at the far end of the hall.

Nothing has changed since I left this morning. Same stupid inspirational quotes. Same trashcan overflowing with the remains of microwaveable meals.

I make my way to the desk and sink into the leather chair. The comfort it gave me yesterday is replaced with unease. This room feels dirty despite the obsessive cleaning that it’s been subjected to.

The drawer to my right is now locked. Apparently it was the worst possible luck that I managed to catch it open. I try the others anyway. I jiggle the computer mouse for good measure. Everything is locked down.