The knot in my chest tightens, frustration and something darker churning as I watch her move through the yard—like she’s figured out how to live here without any of us. For the first time in weeks, I feel the distance growing, and I can’t decide if I hate it or if I’m just afraid of what she’s become.
Carrie steps up to the little podium by the court, taking the mic from the event announcer with a polite, steady smile. “Alright, everyone—let’s remember, this is a community event. That means everyone participates. No hiding out by the fence.”
There’s a ripple of laughter, and I catch a few inmates making low, crude comments about her dress and her body. My fists clench. If we weren’t surrounded by guards, I’d have words for them—and not quiet ones.
Carrie doesn’t react to the noise, just scans the yard until her gaze finally lands on me, Jace, and Nico. Her eyes hold for a second longer than I expect. “That means all of you,” she says, nodding in our direction.
The rec officer on the sidelines calls out our numbers. “You three—let’s go. Next match. Up.”
Jace groans, muttering, “You’ve got to be kidding me,” but grabs his jersey anyway. Nico just snorts and cracks his knuckles, already playing it off like a joke.
I get up, dragging my feet, but as I move toward the court, something on the ground catches my eye—a small, metal key, almost hidden by the shadow of a folding chair. I glance around,heart pounding, and realize Carrie is watching me, eyebrows raised, mouth set in a knowing line.
Making sure the guards aren’t looking, I slide my foot over the key, pressing it into the dirt. I fake like I’m tying my shoe, fingers working fast, and palm the key before anyone notices. I glance up—Carrie’s still watching, something unreadable in her expression.
I straighten, pocket the key, and jog onto the court, my mind already racing with questions. Did she mean for me to find it? Or am I just imagining things again?
The whistle blows, and the game gets underway, but I can barely focus. Jace looks annoyed to be out here, Nico is playing it up like a show, and the only thing I can really think about is the key pressing against my thigh.
We go through a few lazy plays. The ball thuds on the broken court, the air is thick with shouts and laughter, but I’m just scanning the sidelines. Carrie stands out, her clipboard hugged close, eyes flicking in my direction every few minutes. When I get close to the edge of the court, she shifts her weight, as if she’s waiting for something.
I see my chance after a messy rebound. I take a few steps, then suddenly grab my thigh, stumbling to the ground. I let myself hit the pavement, grimacing like it hurts more than it does.
Jace and Nico pause, the game stopping as a guard shouts, “What happened to him?”
“Cramp,” I call out, rubbing my leg, putting on a show. “Happens sometimes.”
Carrie is quick to react. She hands her clipboard to a volunteer and jogs over, worry written across her face for anyone watching.
She kneels beside me, voice soft but urgent, her hand steady on my shoulder. “Are you alright?”
I nod, and as I lean in, she shields her mouth with her hand. In a whisper, quick and tight, she says, “Storage closet by admin hall. Left side. Go when it’s clear.”
Before I can reply, one of the staff comes over, asking if I need help. Carrie straightens, her expression calm as she turns back to them. “He’ll be fine, just a bad cramp. Let him rest.”
I stay on the bench for a few minutes, rubbing my leg and keeping my head down. Jace and Nico are still stuck in the game, probably thinking I’m milking the injury for a break. Nobody’s paying much attention to me now, not even the guards posted by the sidelines.
I watch the flow of people around the yard, waiting for the moment when the staff’s attention drifts back to the court. A group of volunteers starts handing out water bottles, drawing most of the guards and players into a cluster near the refreshment table. The security officer by the admin building gets called over to help break up a noisy argument between two inmates. I spot my window.
Keeping my limp believable, I head for the admin building, moving slowly enough not to attract attention. When a nurse walks by, I nod, muttering that I’m headed to the restroom. She barely glances at me. I disappear around the corner, slip down the hallway, and find the row of storage doors.
My pulse pounds as I scan for cameras—there’s nothing directly aimed at this end of the hall. I crouch by the leftmost closet, slip the key into the lock, and listen one last time for footsteps. The hallway stays empty.
I turn the key. The lock clicks open.
Without a sound, I slip inside and close the door behind me, the cool dark swallowing me up.
The storage closet is pitch-black at first. I let the door close behind me and stand still, waiting for my eyes to adjust. The smell of old cleaning chemicals hangs in the air, mixed withdust and something faintly metallic. I pat the wall, searching for a light switch. My fingers land on a pull string, and I give it a gentle tug.
A single bulb flickers on, casting shadows over the cramped space. Shelves run along one wall, piled high with mop buckets, cardboard boxes, and stacks of paper towels. I step over a cracked mop handle and look closer, scanning for anything out of place.
Near the back, tucked behind a crate of detergent, I spot a plain envelope sealed with clear tape. It’s wedged into a gap between two boxes, almost invisible unless you know to look for it.
Heart hammering, I grab the envelope and slide it into the waistband of my jumpsuit. I do a quick sweep of the closet just to be sure there’s nothing else, but it looks like this is it. Whatever’s inside, Carrie wanted me to have it—and she wanted me to find it alone.
I turn off the light, crack the door, and peek into the hallway. Still clear. I slip out, close the door quietly, and make my way back toward the yard, trying to act as casual as possible.
Every step, I expect someone to shout my name, to demand to know what I’m doing out of bounds. But no one stops me. When I finally see the crowd and hear the noise of the sports event ahead, relief floods through me.
