She lifted her enormous dark eyes to my face, her smile fleeting. "At first. After a while, I wasn't scared so much as cautious. I didn't worry about the staff. It took me about two full seconds to figure out how to get along with them."

"Which was what?"

"Compliance. I was nice. Polite. I did as I was told and I obeyed all the rules. It was really no big deal and it made life easier."

"What about the other inmates?"

"Most of them were okay. Not all. Some of the girls were mean, so you didn't dare let 'em see you as weak. You backed down on anything, they'd be all over you like flies. So here's what I learned. Some bitch gets in my face? I get right back in hers. If she escalates, I do the same and keep on upping the ante until it finally dawns on her she'd better leave me alone. What made it tricky was you didn't want to be written up, especially for anything involving violence – there was hell to pay for that – so you had to find a way to stand your ground without calling attention to yourself."

"How'd you manage it?"

She smiled. "Oh, I had my little ways. The truth is I never messed with anyone who didn't mess with me first. My goal was peace and quiet. You go your way and I'll go mine. Sometimes it just didn't work out that way and then you had to move on to something else." She glanced down at the menu. "What is this stuff?"

"Those are all Hungarian dishes, but you don't need to fret. Rosie's already decided what we're having. You can argue with her if you like, but you'll lose."

"Hey, just like prison. What a happy thought."

I saw Rosie approach, bearing another glass of second-rate wine. Before she could put it down in front of Reba, I reached for it, saying, "Thanks. I'll take that. What about you, Reba? What would you like to drink?"

"I'll have iced tea."

Rosie made an officious note to herself like a proper journalist. "Sweet or no sweet?"

"I prefer plain."

"I'm bring lemon on the side in little diaper so you squeeze in your tea with no seeds come out."

"Thanks."

Once Rosie left, Reba said, "I would have turned that down. It really doesn't bother me to see you drink."

"I wasn't sure. I don't want to be a bad influence."

"You? Not possible. Don't worry about it." She set the menu aside and clasped her hands on the table in front of her. "You have other questions. I can tell."

"I do. What were they in for, the mean ones?"

"Murder, manslaughter. A lot for selling drugs. The lifers were the worst because what did they have to lose? They'd get thrown in detention? Whoopee-do. Big deal."

"I couldn't stand having all those people around. Didn't that drive you nuts?"