Incarceration

Chapter Sixteen

I cross over to the bed and lie down, thinking about everything I had experienced today and on the new information that had come to light during my time in the hospital. I wonder when I'll see Wyatt again. We need to talk about our escape plan, and we need to get out soon. At least I know he's safe. For the time being.

But soon other innocent prisoners will be made to do the same thing. My stomach turns. The whole system has become so much more corrupt than I ever imagined.

I wonder if I will have to go to the game tomorrow and who my player will be. I secretly hope to be sent back to the hospital. When the lights don't shut off for a while, I get out of bed, cross over to the door, and peer out my window. I see no guards in the hallway—only a couple notes flying tied to strings to and from cells and a couple of arms hanging out the food flaps as convicts chill out and try their best not to feel stuck in their small cell. I open my food flap and a note falls to the floor. It's familiar and I bend down to pick it up. I unfold it, and it reveals the same prison logo in gold at the top of the page.

"What's that?" Emma asks.

"Nothing," I say quickly.

Don't worry this time. He is safe, the note reads.

He? Who is he? Wyatt? My heart rate increases and my palms begin to sweat. Who else could know about Wyatt? Grayson? I take a piece of paper and a pen and scribble back.

Who are you?

I fold it, put it in the flap, and wait. I make sure that I am watching the note this time, and with the big window in my cell door, I was sure that I wouldn't miss it. I stare at the door until the lights in the prison turn off and everything goes pitch black. I swear under my breath as I hear the clang of my food flap open and shut . . . and the footsteps fall away. Damn it. I clumsily try to find my way to the bed, stumbling over nothing until I finally find it. Hauling myself up, I lie down and close my eyes.

"Okay," Emma's voice comes from the dark, "What was that about?"

"Nothing," I say.

Emma doesn't question me again.

Morning comes quickly and unpleasantly. I stare gloomily around my cell until I forcibly drag myself from my bed into the forbidding future of the day to come. I am served my breakfast in my cell, which I only reluctantly eat to satisfy my growing hunger. Now that the guards have regained their power, I am sure that they have spit into everyone's food, but I don't care. I'm hungry.

To pass the time, I pace my cell, doodle on scraps of paper, and do the occasional workout to keep my strength up throughout my recovery. The metal staples have still not been removed from my chest or legs, and I was sure the hospital has forgotten both my staples and me. My skin heals neatly around them, although there is always a hint of irritation surrounding the entrance point where the metal meets my skin.

"Are you okay?" Emma asks when she sees me looking down at my stomach.

"Yeah," I say, "it's just from the game."

The dinner bell finally rings and we are all directed one by one out of our cells with no handcuffs this time. I meet Iker, Royce, and Amara in the dining hall and we huddle together. I am relieved to see that Carter isn't joining us, but some of the other convicts that pass stare at us with looks of curiosity and disdain.

I don't try to keep the three from bickering anymore. I simply sit and watch them interact because they amuse me, and I can tell that they all care for each other deep down. It's the one thing that makes me happy.