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“What’ll I find on pages eighteen and nineteen?” I asked, watching her fingers twist her hair into one, big golden curl.

She smiled with her lips closed, like she had a secret, and I knew what I’d find on pages eighteen and nineteen—or more like stuck between them. The female correctional officer on duty, Jameson, was all right, so I peeked inside at two Polaroids of Tiffany in black lingerie. As I followed the lines of her curves, my balls tightened. This, the possibility of one day having it, got me off way more than glossy chicks I didn’t know. “Who took these?”

“Sarah. She did it for her boyfriend, too.”

“You know CO Ludwig might ‘confiscate these,’” I said. He’d cleaned me out of cigarettes, porno, and chewing tobacco during the last shakedown, and that fucker would delight in violating any inmate by taking his girl’s photos.

“So you’ll have them until he does.” She shrugged. “He’s pathetic. That fat idiot has to take them because unlike you, he has nobody to give him any.”

I didn’t like the idea of it, but Tiffany took it in stride. She knew how little control I had in here. I didn’t know many girls who wouldn’t freak out about a “fat idiot” drooling over their photo. Behind the Polaroids, she’d folded up a page torn from a magazine. I opened it. Tiffany smiled brightly on the page in khakis and a navy polo, her arms crossed as she leaned her shoulder against a man wearing the same outfit.

“My second catalogue,” she said. “It’s for this company that sells uniforms. I know the clothing is hideous, but I wanted you to see—”

“I don’t care what you’re wearing.” I smoothed out the creases. “You look happy. Even prettier than Jenny what’s-her-name.”

She nudged my leg with her foot. “Thank you.”

“Any more news from that agent lady?”

Her blue eyes lit up. “I have a go-see for a swimsuit company this weekend. My agent thinks I’ll get it. They’re looking for a beach babe.”

“You’re a beach babe if I ever saw one.”

“I need this job, Manning. I can’t wait to quit Nordstrom. My manager has been so obnoxious this week. She made me vacuum the fitting rooms twice in one day. As if anyone could tell the difference.”

Outside this space, I would’ve stopped her there. I couldn’t fake interest in overpriced clothing, the women Tiffany constantly had to compliment, or sales floor brawls over commission. But my life was about routines now, and this was part of ours. Hearing about her day-to-day life, it wasn’t much, but it was something I looked forward to anyway.

Tiffany’d gotten a modeling agent after I’d been locked up, and almost right away, she’d been in a catalogue. Paid pretty well, too, though she’d blown most of the money already. “It’s just temporary,” I reminded her.

“I know. I’ll feel better after I pick up my paycheck.” She put her hands in her lap. “Which is something I wanted to talk about. I’ve been thinking.”

“Yeah?” I sat back in my seat. “What about?”

“I’ve been saving a little each pay period like you said.”

Before this, I’d been pretty good about setting extra money aside. It was all gone now, mostly on fines and restitution, but I’d been going over savings accounts and compound interest with Tiffany during our visits. Apparently, her dad had tried and given up, but I figured she had to see the light sooner or later. Maybe she finally had. “Good,” I said.

“And, well, things have been really tense at home, so I might . . . I might try to get my own place.”

“Can you afford the rent?”

“I can if I cut back shopping at the store. I just save so much with the discount.”

“Not more than you’d save if you didn’t buy anything,” I pointed out.

She considered that a second. “I never thought of it that way. Anyway, what do you think? About the apartment?”

As long as Tiffany lived at home, she’d be under her dad’s thumb. I didn’t see how that had helped her up to this point. “I like the idea.”

“Really?” she asked. “My dad says I can’t afford it.”

“Well, that’s because he hasn’t seen you try. Prove him wrong. Get a roommate if you need to. Move inland. Stop eating out. You can do it if you set your mind to it.”

“You really think so? Because I’ve looked into it, and I do think I can do it, but when he said that, I started to doubt myself.”

“I know you can make it happen,” I said. “You just have to stay focused.”

“Okay. I will.” Her smile fell into a frown when she checked the clock over my head. “I have to go in a minute. If I don’t run the errands Mom gave me for tonight, I’ll be dead meat.”

“What’s tonight?” I asked.

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