I eagerly rip it open and pull out four separate letters.
Relief fills me, knowing they all wrote to me. It’s been nine months since I started writing to them by accident, and every time I send a letter, I’m terrified I won’t get a response, that someone will figure out what I’m doing and put a stop to it.
Their letters fill me with something I’ve never had before: excitement, freedom, and a weird sort of rebelliousness. It’s the only thing I do that my brother would not be happy with—if he ever found out.
It was his fault, really. He told me to become penpalswith some foster kids who needed a big sister role model. It wasn’t my fault that I grabbed the wrong list of names from his desk.
In my defense, the paper had only a single line of text:
Sylvester Romano, Peter Montgomery, Dexter Sutherland, and Jason Hayes are all now permanently residing at
Stoney Creek R.C. 3200 Red Canyon Road, Stoney Creek, Arizona.
Could I be blamed for thinking R.C. stood for Recreation Center? Imagine my surprise when I realized I hadn’t written to four foster boys but, in fact, to four inmates at Stoney Creek Rehabilitation Center.
Four men whom I’ve never met, never seen, and yet were the most exciting part of my life. Receiving a letter from them was what I imagined being struck by lightning felt like: dangerous, impossible to ignore, and filling my entire body with a warmth I’ve never felt before.
When I read their words, I feel truly seen for the first time in my life. Like my thoughts and opinions actually matter. Their letters bring me a feeling of hope and exhilaration that I’ve never experienced. I find myself craving their words more than I crave air. I’m inexplicably drawn to them.
And to think, all of this comes from four convicted murderers.
My prison penpals.
CHAPTER TWO
WREN
“Wren? Are you listening to me?”
My head snaps up from where I’ve been staring at my yogurt parfait to see Robert frowning at me.
Shoot, what did he say?
“I’m sorry, I guess I wasn’t paying attention.” I set down my spoon and make sure he knows he has my full attention now.
“Make sure not to make a habit of that. Especially since we’re likely to have company for the next few weeks.”
“Company?” I ask, hoping that someone is coming to stay with us who I can be friends with. It’s been years since my only friend left for University and never returned. I’m itching to talk to someone again.
If it weren’t for the letters to my penpals over the past nine months, I’d probably be pulling my hair out from lack of contact with the outside world.
“What did you think of Ivan?” he asks, changing the subject.
“Ivan? He seems like a good business partner.” Robert huffs out a small laugh before taking a bite of the eggs Benedict I made him.
I’ve never been allowed to try it, but based on the taste of the hollandaise sauce I made, I have a feeling it’d be my favorite breakfast food.
“He’s going to be around a lot in the coming weeks while we work out the details of our deal. I want you to treat him with the utmost respect. Do you understand?”
“Of course,” I reply easily. Didn’t I treat everyone with respect? What was he so worried about?
“I’m going to have you join us on occasion. Not to discuss business, of course, but when we need a break, I expect you to join us and be on your best behavior. I wouldn’t want you to cause any embarrassment to our family.”
“Robert,” I say carefully, feeling insulted but knowing I can’t exactly call him out on it. “Have I ever embarrassed you before?”
He looks at me for a moment before letting out a deep breath, his shoulders dropping as he reaches over and squeezes my hand. “Of course not, Wren. You’re the most perfect sister I could ever ask for. I love you, you know that, right? I’m doing all of this so that you can be properly taken care of and have the life you deserve.”
Byall of this, I knew he meant his work and keeping me locked up in this gigantic house. He was always explaining how everything he did was for me, so I could live in luxury and never have to work. I didn’t exactly agree with him, though, since cooking and cleaning felt like work to me, but I knew he was giving me way more than I was giving him. And if cooking his favorite meals was what I needed to do on my end, I was happy to do so.
