I̶n̶f̶a̶t̶u̶a̶t̶i̶o̶n

Chapter 8--Evan

            "Where are we going?" Her voice was bright and cheerful and I felt a twinge of guilt as we turned on the road to Thornhill.

"Maddy, if I told you, then it wouldn't be a surprise," I said. "Besides, we're almost there."

I was growing steadily more unsure the further we got down the road. I knew Madelyn wouldn't like it, but I couldn't think of any other way to get her to go. She would never visit mom on her own.

"Evan..."

We pulled into the prison parking lot and recognition flashed across Madelyn's face.

"Evan, no. Turn the car around. I'm serious, turn around."

When I continued through the lot, she unbuckled and opened the car door. Slamming on the brakes, I lunged over and grabbed her wrist tightly.

"Madelyn get back in the car. Now."

Fear shown in her eyes and it was only then that I realized just how tightly I was holding her. Quickly, I released and she slid back in her seat, shutting the door.

"Thank you," I said quietly, pulling into an empty parking space. I turned to face her. "Please, just come to see her. You really need to; it might help."

"Evan, I don't want to. I don't care if it'll help or not."

I sighed and said the only thing I knew would get her in those steel double doors. "Please, Maddy, don't make me face her alone. I can't."

A single tear slipped down my cheek. I hated crying and hardly ever did, but I knew that she would take one look at me and think "wounded animal" or something. She took my hand in hers, finally looking me in the eye.

"I'll go, E, don't worry."

"Thank you," I said, drying my cheek. "Let's go."

We walked inside and I could smell stale coffee and cigarettes, a scent that wasn't misplaced in a joint like this.

"We'd like to meet with Kirsten Chandler," I told the officer in the tiny box office.

"Names?"

"Evan and Madelyn Chandler."

"That'll be about a 10-minute wait," he said gruffly.

"Okay, thank you," I replied, turning towards the waiting room.

Those 10 minutes went by excruciatingly slowly. Madelyn sat in the hard plastic chairs, though I didn't see how. I spent the whole time pacing, hearing only the sound of my feet clicking with every step. I fidgeted with the rubber band on my wrist, too lost in my thoughts to notice--or care--when a giant swell had already appeared on my skin. I hated visits with my mom, but I had to do this for Maddy. She needed closure, though I doubt I'd ever have it.

I stopped flicking the rubberband when a different officer appeared in the doorway. it was probably a good thing he did because my wrist was starting to bleed.

"Madelyn and Evan?" he asked us. There was no one else around, so I had no idea why he had. I nodded anyway.

"Follow me."

We followed the officer through a series of hallways until we reached the room I had been in just a few days earlier. She was there already, sitting in the same chair as before. She looked even worse, her hair falling in greasy clumps past her shoulders. Her skin was dirty with smudges all across it and her clothes were the worst of all. It was the same grey jumper she'd worn since they put her in there with a pocket on the left breast. It had stains everywhere and I knew that no one I knew would ever be caught dead in it. That's probably why most of them avoided jail like the devil. It's not that they cared about going to jail--they didn't give a damn--but heaven forbid they had to put on those jumpsuits; especially the girls. So they learned to lay low when they needed to and the convenience of a believable alibi.