14. Not Enough Time

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I guess tomorrow's the night.

I don't know how I feel about that.

--

I had just gotten back from the yard and my meeting with Laurens when there was a shout from Cell 10. "HAMILTON!"

Just my luck, it was James fucking Reynolds. I can't stand that guy, and for every bit that I dislike him, he dislikes me twice as much. It's a hate-hate relationship, really. Sighing, I yelled back, "WHAT DO YOU WANT, JAMES?"

In response, a hand shot through the bars, deposited a letter, and then proceeded to flip me off before retreating back to its own cell. 

"Jackass," I muttered, then opened the letter. The seal hadn't been broken, which was good, but I was still wary. 

It was from Laurens. 

They're doing it tomorrow. Decide what you stand for.

So that happened. And I don't know what to do. I need more time.


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