I tore my hands away from the sobbing man. “Excuse me?”
The guard flipped through his keys.
I pointed to my newest companion. “Is he panty snatcher?”
The officer chose not to elaborate on this very disconcerting piece of information and promptly closed the door, locking me in with the sobbing, probably-panty snatcher man.
“You can’t leave me in here with him!” I ran to the door and banged on it. “Let me out! I can’t be in here with a panty snatcher. I’m wearing Pearla lingerie! Help!”
“If it makes you feel any better.” The sobbing man wiped his nose. “I only like panties you've worn during your ovulation cycle.”
I screamed.
Two days later, I had not connected. The only thumping in my body came from a migraine knocking on all the doors in my head from sleeping on a plastic mat and breathing recycled air. The panty snatcher wished me a happy birthday and I thanked him and asked him if he would consider ending his life for being Soulless and he refused. I was taken out of the cell and sat back at a desk with a phone pressed up against my ear and mouth.
“Duckie?” Magnus breathed on the other end.
The tension in my shoulders knotted away, my stomach ceased it’s heaving, any pain hammering in my head fell away in favour of my brother’s voice. He sounded like home.
“What did you do?” His voice was deep.
My lower lip quivered. “A reckless thing.”
“You attempted to save your life. It wasn’t reckless, it was brave.”
“My ankles are cuffed by a chain. It was reckless.”
“Duckie, listen to me. I’m working on this.”
“It’s my birthday.” I bit down hard on my lower lip until I tasted blood. “I’m considered Soulless now.”
The silence of the phone hummed between us. “Just do as they say. If you do not cooperate that will only give them cause to think you are Soulless.”
“But I am Soulless—”
“You are not. You are a good person.”
“But Magnus—”
“I love you Duckie.”
The officer took the phone away and hung up for me.
“Now, I will sentence you.” She brought out paperwork.
I ran through what she had said. “I need a trial.”
“I am legally permitted to condemn you with the evidence available.” She took a stamp off her desk and smashed it upon my file. “There. You have now been sentenced.”
“Sentenced? Sentenced?” If my heart wasn’t thrashing before, it was now.
“Life in prison.”
“Life in prison? Life in prison?”
“In Ricker Prison.”
“Ricker Prison? Ricker Prison?”
