DAY 14

Before she sleeps, she talks to six more guards. They seem to switch out regularly. When Smith comes back, she gets his real name: Ramsey. Eric doesn’t return.

She also meets a female guard who’s the hardest one to talk to: Annemarie. She meets Phil, Anderson, Diaz, and Hayes. By the end of their watch, every one of them at least seems willing to listen to her. In the middle of her talk with Anderson and Diaz, she has to pee in the bucket again, which actually helps make her point that Eric is a monster.

It’s a slow and difficult process, but it’s all she has.

Soon, she can’t keep her eyes open any longer and her mouth is so dry she can’t keep talking, so she has no choice but to sleep. She dreams about playing Scrabble with her mom again. Though it’s not as much of a dream or recollection of real events as it is a nightmare that crawled inside her mind, stole her fondest memories, and twisted them. She sees the words on the board as if they’re written in blood, aiming to jump and lodge themselves in her throat and cut off her air until her face goes blue and her eyes pop out of her head. She sees “LOVE” first and smiles before seeing “ELYSIAN” made from the “E”. Then there’s “BLEEDING” and “GONE” and “ANNA” and “DANIEL” and “DEATH” and “REGISTRATION.” She gasps for breath and looks up at her mother, whose face is shrunken and gray. Her mouth falls open, blood pours down her lips and stains the ground they sit on and a shriek that sounds too much like Anna’s cry escapes her mom’s throat and—

Lynell sits up from her spot on the floor in the corner of the room, sweat covering her forehead, each breath raking her chest. Once her breaths level, she swallows and looks up.

Two new guards are looking at her with alarmed expressions.

“Well . . .” she gasps, wiping the back of her hand across her forehead. “That was dramatic.” She blows out a breath and looks at the guards. They’re skinnier and less muscular than the others, which makes her think that Eric leaves his less experienced guards with her in the middle of the night. One has bright red hair and a deep red beard. The other is bald, clean-shaven, with tan skin. They’re about the same height and both wear expressions that scream, “I’m way out of my depth here.”

She smirks. “You have the time?” They pull the classic look-at-each-other-not-knowing-how-to-respond dance and Lynell rolls her eyes. “Listen, telling me the time is not going to get you killed. I won’t tell Eric that you talked to me.”

The redhead clears his throat. “Quarter to six.”

“Ooh, that’s early.” Lynell lies back down, and despite the cool, hard floor, she could pass out any moment. She flings her right arm over her face and asks, “How long have you two been here?”