Walking from my office to the cafeteria, I hear laughter. A weird sound in this hallway. Nobody has a reason to be here right now. Or laughing. It’s almost dinner time; staff are usually home already. I slow my pace. The sound comes from the alcove near another office.
I catch sight of them. Mr. Pearson, the art teacher everyone calls Shadow because of how he materializes out of nowhere, and Seth, a kid who's been here two years. Shadow is big, bulky, beer belly, blue eyes, grayish hair, short beard. Fifty or so, maybe Griff's age but rougher around the edges. Half the kids here crush on him. He's a teacher. A professional. It's disgusting.
Seth is lean and tall, caramel hair, green eyes. He stands with his back to the corner, smiling up at Shadow.
Shadow leans against the wall. Too close. I can't hear what he says, but I see him reach out and adjust Seth's collar with his fingers. Nothing explicitly wrong. But I know that look. I've seen it enough times. Adoration and lust, someone who thinks they're hiding it. Seth doesn't pull away when Shadow's hand moves to his cheek. He leans into it, eyes fixed on Shadow's face.
My stomach tightens. Seth is an adult. We all are. But this has to be inappropriate. Right?
Shadow's hand moves from Seth's cheek to his shoulder, lingering. He leans in to whisper something. Seth laughs, soft and easy.
Fuck. I can't turn back. They'll hear me, realize I'm retreating from what I saw. So, I clear my throat and walk forward, making my steps loud, giving them seconds to adjust. The effect is immediate. Shadow straightens, puts distance between them. His smile stays, but it's fake now.
"Ethan," he acknowledges me with a nod. "A lot of admin work?"
"Yes, sir." Voice neutral. Face blank. I look at Seth, whose expression has gone bored. He sees my uniform. He knows what I am.
I don't ask anything. I want to leave. But Shadow keeps going, like he needs to justify himself.
"Just discussing Seth's art project," he says, gesturing toward his office. "He's got real talent."
Seth nods, not meeting my eyes. "Mr. Pearson was giving me some ideas for my portfolio. For when I get out."
I notice how Shadow has shifted his weight away from Seth. Creating space.
"Alright, see you in class," I say. Everybody is enrolled in arts. They say it’s therapeutic for us, so it’s mandatory. I leave. I'm no narc, despite being a leader. The old saying about snitches is taken literally here.
I keep walking. Sick to my stomach. I should tell Griff what I saw. He'd know what to do. But what would I say? That I have a bad feeling? That Shadow was standing too close? That he's a teacher and should know better, and Seth is a twenty-something kid who's literally locked up here?
Wasn't I doing the same thing to Liam?
No. I'm not a teacher. Being a leader is just being another delinquent with a shiny badge. It doesn't matter that I'mtechnically responsible for Liam. That's what I tell myself.
I keep my head down. And I know they know I won't say anything.
I pass the gym, heading to dinner. The image of Shadow's hand on Seth's shoulder buzzes in my head. I force it down, lock it away with everything else I see and can’t fix.
That's when I notice movement behind the gym. I see him: Harry.
I change direction. Footsteps silent. If it were anyone else, I'd look away. Busting random kids isn't part of the job, even if the slogan here is the classic "if you see something, say something." I see enough. I don't say anything. But Harry is my problem. He lives with me, and when he screws up, the whole unit pays. It happened before. When he got busted with Jerry, we all got punished for a month. Jerry ended up getting transferred to a real jail. Harry’s too rich for that. He’s here playing criminal and will be out of here the second his daddy decides he’s had enough.
"Quality stuff, man. Worth every…" The voice cuts off. He sees me. Harry, a small plastic bag pinched between his fingers like he doesn't care who sees. Two kids in front of him, one with money already out.
We all freeze. Harry looks panicked for a millisecond, then the smirk appears. The one that spikes my blood pressure. The one that says rules are for other people.
"Well, well. The supreme leader is here." Sarcastic as it gets. "We were just discussing... botany. Plants, you know."
The two kids back away, panic on their faces. I jerk my head toward the main yard. "Out. Now."
They bolt. Just me and Harry. He slides the bag into his pocket. Calm. That calm ignites something in me, all the frustration from the day, from Shadow, from everything.
I'm on him before he can react. Forearm against his collarbone, pinning him to the wall. He's much smaller. Doesn't eventry to break free.
"Are you trying to get us all sent to real prison, just like you did to Jerry?" A growl. "I've warned you enough."
He doesn't struggle. Stays calm. That pisses me off more than anything. "Please," he says, eyes steady behind those glasses. "We both know this place is just prison with better branding."
I press harder. Feel his pulse racing against my arm. For a split second, I consider making him faint. I can't. I'd love to. But I can't.
