Deven stood as more and more people began cluttering the walkway. She couldn’t very well explain what she meant now. “Can you call me?” she asked, shifting through people. She didn’t even know if the man had her number. But it was clear they had more discuss. Keith didn’t speak, only stared as if he were trying to solve a complicated math problem. He trudged into the line with the rest of the prisoners and was ushered out of the room.

It felt like she could breathe again as soon as Deven emerged from the building. She took a greedy gulp of air, refreshed by the first few sprinkles of dew. As soon as she made it back to her car, she snatched off the itchy wig and ran her fingers through her short crop of hair. Today had been eventful, but not quite as productive as she would’ve liked. Keith’s words continued to echo in her mind and again, she felt a pull of sorrow at the lifestyle that Kennedy had been adopted into after she’d left their mother.

Back at home, the first thing Deven did was check all her rooms and closets. The door had been secured with the new double locks thanks to the locksmith, but still, she couldn’t be too sure. Though the more she found out about Deuce, the more she wondered if he wasn’t trying to threaten her at all. Maybe warn her. Staying out of it, like his note read, may have been more for precaution because she wouldn’t like what she would find. That last part had certainly proven more true than anything.

Confirming that everything was still as it should’ve been, nothing out of place, no more ambiguous notes or dead bodies or bloody weapons or any of that other stuff that predators left behind to tease their prey, Deven ran herself a bath and poured herself a glass of wine. She needed to wash the stench of prison off her. Iris had asked that she call after the visit, though Deven was sure it was more so to hear all about Keith as opposed to what she needed to talk to him about. So that, too, could wait.

Deven downed her drink, poured herself a second glass, and knocked that back just as quickly. Anything to take the edge off. It didn’t take long for the alcoholic buzz to intoxicate her senses and without realizing it, Deven was dialing Paul’s number, desperate to hear his voice. The call went straight to voicemail. Had he done that on purpose maybe? She was babbling into the receiver before she could stop herself.