Silence completely takes us over again. Everything else washes away except the fast beat of my heart as we take the long road past acres filled with grass and farmland. Then we see the fenced-in wall of the maximum-security prison. It’s twenty feet tall along rows of cinder-block towers with razor wire atop it. From a distance, you can see the guards standing on top and the surveillance cameras lined up around the perimeter. As usual, an uneasy feeling swirls in my stomach. But this time is different—I defied Mama during Jamal’s interview. Lied about new suspects, and I’m certain Daddy’s heard all about it by now.

THE APPLE OF OUR EYE

We turn into the prison’s parking lot. A roar of laughter escapes a group of boys perched outside. They circle around one guy who’s trying to play it low-key. His eyes shift, watching the parking lot. A black garbage bag is sprawled on the ground in front of his feet, confirming he’s the one just released. Also by how his boys are all hype. They punch playful fists at each other, rapidly spitting out catch-up stories to him. I think they might be so into themselves they’ll ignore us parking, but the second we drive toward the visitor lot, I hear their chatter.

“There you go, man.” I’m not sure who says it.

A whistle blows out long and low.

“Not a chance,” Tasha says out the window.

His boys huddle, laughing, saying “oooh.” Their voices eventually fade as she pulls into the lot farther away from releases.

I give a grateful smile to Tasha for driving me the two hours to visit Daddy. Knowing she’ll be out here waiting for me when I’m done.

I enter the first small building and join a short line, dump my things in a yellow bin. The security woman smooths her hands down my arms, up my waist, across my bra line, then down my legs.

Then I go to the next building and wait until I’m called over the loudspeaker. I sit by a small round-table bench as the prisoners line up behind the glass. I’m grateful they changed the rule to visit death-row inmates, and I don’t have to come all this way to pick up a phone to talk to Daddy through a glass window.

There’s a buzz, then a clank as the locks release and the door is propped open by an officer. Rushing in to see their visitors, a few guys bump into one another.

My heart stops, hoping this doesn’t turn into some altercation that’ll shut down visiting hour while they go into lockdown. Or worse, I witness Daddy getting into it with someone. I shut my eyes for a moment, thinking about the first time I saw him with injuries. I blink the memory away.