Page 7 of On Your Life

The inmates move quickly, falling into place beside their cell doors. Some smile at me, some openly stare, and a few let their eyes linger too long. Others refuse to make eye contact altogether. I prefer the ones who look away.

You give these women an inch and they’ll take a mile. Conner never understood that. I follow the same path he always took during count, it feels almost wrong.

He wasn’t perfect. Hell, I’d caught him more than once in the supply closet with an inmate on her knees, trading favors for special treatment.

These bitches are like cats in heat the longer they’re cooped up in here and Conner was more than willing to take advantage of it.

It never appealed to me. I come to work, do my job, then I go home. I don’t want to deal with obsessed prison lovers and catch a charge just to get my dick wet. I can do that shit at home in bed instead of in a corner with a mop bucket.

My pulse starts pounding harder as I near cell thirteen. The woman who lived there before hanged herself after losing her appeal. We’ve kept the cell empty ever since.

Some officers say it’s out of respect and others swear the room is haunted. Either way, it seems like the perfect place for a murderer. Maybe the ghosts will keep her company.

She stands outside her cell with both hands tucked inside the pockets of her oversized jumpsuit. The fabric hangs off her frame like it belongs to someone twice her size.

Her black hair is a mess now, strands escaping every direction from whatever was left of the style she wore to court.

Her face is pale and she looks exhausted. The fear from her booking photo is gone and now she just looks drained. Like the weight of the last few weeks has hollowed her out from the inside.

The fucking nerve of this bitch. Like this is the hardest thing she’ll ever survive. She doesn’t realize it yet but she won’t ever sleep soundly again.

Chapter 4

Kira

The window on my door is glazed over around the edges like it belongs in a bathroom. Cracks spiderweb from each corner as if it’s been slammed one too many times. As innocent as it looks, it’s the scariest thing in this room. The toilet comes second.

I stare at the door for what feels like an eternity, waiting for the guard to show up and continue his one-sided staring contest.

What the fuck is his problem? Surely he can’t be this pissed off over a coworker. Even if he is, it seems excessive when I didn’t fucking do anything.

Anyone with half a brain could’ve seen that the evidence didn’t make sense. Unless you’re the jury that only half listened.

I watched them every chance I got, trying—and failing—to project my innocence across the courtroom.

Some of them looked so bored. One guy spent half the trial staring into the corner like he’d rather be anywhere else. Another kept checking the clock every few minutes.

And my life was put in their hands?

Random people picked off the street with their own lives to worry about and my trial was nothing more than an inconvenience that interrupted whatever they had planned that day.

After spending all day trapped in this cell with nothing but my thoughts, I’ve come to one conclusion—the jury had to be rigged.

There’s no way anyone could’ve looked at that poorly pieced together evidence and thought I was guilty. My lawyer promised he’d push for a new trial and told me not to worry. Easy for him to say while he gets to sit outside of a cage.

I almost prefer the jail to this. Jail felt less permanent. This feels like my life is over.

My gaze drifts to the ceiling and I pull the scratchy blanket up to my chin in a pathetic attempt to stave off the cold. What I wouldn’t give for my bed right now. The metal bunk presses through the paper thin mat, digging into my back until every bone aches.

The silence is almost worse than the noise. At least they can shut up when it’s time to sleep. My eyelids grow heavy and I finally let them close. Today has been the longest day of my life. Maybe tomorrow I’ll feel more normal. Well, as normal as I can be.

Just as sleep is about to pull me under a blinding white light explodes across my vision, cutting through the darkness. I squint toward the door but all I can see is a beam burning through the foggy glass. Then it’s gone.

His silhouette fills the entire window. I don’t need the light to know exactly who it is. My heart pounds against my ribs as the sharp-jawed guard from earlier grins at me like the fucking joker. The light clicks on again.

Then off.

On.