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Have a conversation with Chance?
That would require him looking up from the visitor application he’s been filling out for thirty minutes and twelve seconds—yes, I counted. He’s obviously stalling to avoid talking to me until a prison employee takes him to the visitation area.
We haven’t said one word to each other since he picked me up from the apartment earlier. Makes me wonder why he wanted me to come in the first place. I highly doubt he brought me here just to ignore me the whole time.
Or maybe he’s petty. Maybe he’s giving me the silent treatment as punishment for neglecting to tell him I live with Finn.
Either way, I wish he’d cut it out. Today will be Chance’s first time seeing his brother in years. I only came because he said having someone there would bring him comfort. Had I known he’d refuse to acknowledge my existence, I would’ve settled for a quick breakup text and spared myself the awkward afternoon.
Chance puts down the clipboard holding the application a few minutes later, chewing on the inside of his mouth. His stare is blank and emotionless as he rises off his chair and walks to the front desk. He hands his completed application to a member of staff before regaining his seat.
He starts bouncing his leg from the moment he sits down, and a voice in my head warns me not to make assumptions about how he’s feeling. What if he’s not icing me out? What if he’s just nervous and doesn’t know what to do with himself?
Everybody handles emotions differently. For all I know, he could be quiet because he’s busy trying to keep his anxiety in check. He confirms my intuition by inhaling a sharp breath and holding it for a moment. Then he does it again, struggling to steady his breathing.
He’s not mad.
He’s scared.
I don’t know what happened between him and his brother, but it seems the past they share is a heavy one.
“Hey, it’s going to be okay.” I bump my knee against his.
He gives me a forced smile and slouches into his seat. We don’t speak again after that, but his leg stops bouncing, which I take as a good sign. I find myself wishing they’d let me go in with him when a prison employee comes up to us and beckons to follow her.
I can’t accompany him since I’m not on Chance’s brother’s visiting list, but I’ll be able to go into a nearby room and witness the whole thing. This way, if it gets to be too much, Chance can look up and see me smiling at him.
First, the woman guides Chance to a visitation room full of tables, chairs, and brawny prison guards. Then, she leads me to another waiting room, this one smaller and empty, with a large rectangular double-paned window that allows me to see straight into the visitation area.
The inmates haven’t been brought in yet. Chance, a family of three, and an older gentleman are the only ones there. Chance grabs a seat at a table and glances at me, doubt smeared all over his face. In response, I do the only thing I can do in a situation like this.
I wave and smile.
He tries his best to muster a genuine smile, but it doesn’t reach his eyes, the sheer discomfort brewing inside him palpable. I make funny faces through the glass while we wait, eventually drawing a laugh out of him. Until the double doors across the room burst open.
And Chance’s smile fades.
The first two inmates are ushered to their families and friends. Then comes Chance’s brother in the typical orange jumpsuit, his hands shackled in front of his body. I assess the man Chance hasn’t spoken to in years. He has long, greasy-looking dark hair that stops an inch before his shoulders and a short, patchy beard you’d expect to see on a teenager rather than a grown man.
That’s when Chance’s brother halts in front of the table where Chance is seated and looks up at me.
It’s not just a quick glance.
He stares at me.
Hard.
Then his mouth pulls into a crooked smile. I feel that smile everywhere in my body. It’s like a shiver. A cold breeze of despair snuffing the oxygen out of the room.
I’ve seen that smile before.
On a man that looked different but was just as much of a monster. That man once pinned me to a bed and choked me until I was begging for air. That man touched me, groped me, abused me. That man took away Finn’s happiness out of spite and enjoyed it. Because Chance’s brother isn’t the stranger I thought he would be.
He’s the guy who killed Lexie.
* * *
“What the hell happened to you back there? Why’d you run away?” Chance drops onto the driver’s seat of his car an hour later, his voice thick with blame.
