Page 25 of Minnie: Double, Double, Toil and Trouble

Natty knows the drill. He follows me towards the largest locker in the Visitation Lobby, and waves to the burly bearded guard stationed next to it. I’ve never gotten his name since he’s always stationed inside and my social skills without Formula M are next to nonexistent.

“You know the drill,” the Burly Beard tells us.

We make quick work on unloading the wagon. Natty helps me place his blanket, picture books and toys in the locker, followed by the folded wagon, which barely fits. Once they’re safely secured inside, the guard escorts us toward the body scanner.

Natty empties his pockets without being asked. He takes out two rocks, one leaf, and what I think might be a piece of quiche from breakfast and places them into the tray.

“You can pick these up on your way out.” Burly Beard tries and fails to hide a smile.

Natty nods sagely and walks through the body scanner. He holds up his arms for the too-tall, too-skinny guard to search him, and my worries about his future return.

Not only does he know his way around a prison, but some of his favorite people are locked behind bars. Not to mention he has me for a guardian—a freak who can’t afford a place to live and who can’t survive without spells. I’m definitely not doing him any favors.

“Next!” Burly Guard says, prompting me to move. I don’t have pockets, so I head directly through the body scanner and let Too Tall Too Skinny search my person and direct me toward a guarded set of double doors.

The visitation room on the other side reminds me of a large cafeteria. There are tables set out, and prisoners are seated and waiting.

I spot Zachariah right away. He is hands-down the most handsome man in the prison, much more so now than on the day we met. The first time I saw him was actually the day I inadvertently helped catch and arrest him, but being the amazing man that he is, he’s never held it against me.

Back then, he’d been scrawny with sunken eyes, the malnourished, sleep-deprived look a result of taking care of Natty on a non-existent budget. But his time in prison has done him good.

He’s put on some much-needed weight, and a lot of muscle. He looks relaxed and at peace, and a smile that wasn’t there in the early days lights up his face the moment he sees us.

When our eyes meet, all my worries float away. The man may be in prison, but he’s one of the kindest, most wonderful people I know. Yes, he made a mistake, but he’s paying for it now. And in two years, he’ll be out of prison and turning over a new leaf. If he can do it, why can’t I?

“Daddy,” Natty squeals.

“Natty!” Zachariah lights up, and it’s like the sun comes up over the prison visitation room. That smile does something funny to my insides, and a lump forms in my throat.

We cross the visitation room, and Natty throws himself into his dad’s arms for a tight hug.

Alyssa, another prisoner, nods at us from the adjacent table. Even though the chairs are bolted to the floor, hers never is. She leans back in her chair with one booted foot on the edge of the table. Her long blonde hair is tied back in a ponytail and her eyebrows look freshly plucked even though I’m sure you’re not allowed tweezers in prison.

“Hey, Natty,” she says. “How’s your swim lessons? You turn into a fish yet?”

“Hi, Lyssa.” Natty grins from ear to ear.

She’s been at the table next to Zachariah’s every time we’ve visited. I’ve never seen Alyssa have a single visitor, and I’ve wondered who she might be waiting for, but I never worked up the courage to ask.

Natty holds his breath for several seconds and lets it out. “I’m a fishy! Glub. Glub.”

Alyssa pouts her lips like a fish, and Natty giggles.

I’m always surprised when she’s playful with the kid because she seems like the sort of person you wouldn’t want to mess with. There’s just something about the way she holds her head high and lounges back in the chair that tells me I wouldn’t want to get on her bad side—even here, in the warded prison, with guards lining the walls.

“Hey, Alyssa. I like the jumpsuit,” I say before she can criticize my outfit. I don’t know why I start this game each time, especially since Alyssa always wins.

She looks me over slowly, as though judging every inch of my clothes, shoes, and lipstick. “Was that all you could find in the discount bin?”

“I’ll have you know this is designer,” I say, though the words taste funny in my mouth. Without Formula M forcing me to say them, they sound more like something Maude Montgomery would say.

“I didn’t know dollar store clothes had designers. Good for you for finding something in your budget.”

How is someone in a literal orange jumpsuit making fun of my clothes?! And winning?!

I try to think of a good comeback, but today, I’ve got nothing. Without Formula M, I’m on my own, and I’m too worn out after the morning’s events. I still have to come up with enough money to go on a cruise, figure out how to get Tiptoe’s collar off since I don’t trust Julian to figure it out, and track down a chameleon shifter who may or may not be my fated mate.

Zachariah lets go of Natty and finally turns to me. I instantly forget all about my problems, and about Alyssa.