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But not the way I did.

I wanted to ask more. Did he still stay awake half the night? Did he still smoke when he was stressed? Was he still impossible to talk to first thing in the morning? Did he still disappear into his office for hours and come out acting like no time had passed at all?

Did he ever talk about me?

That was the question I actually wanted answered.

Before I could ask it, the officer’s voice cut through the room.

“Visitation’s over.”

Luke slid off his chair and immediately reached for Samantha. “Can we go home now, Mom?”

She stood and held out her hand. Luke took it, and Seth took her other one.

The three of them looked like a family. Like they belonged together.

I hated how easily Luke fit beside her. I hated that he called her Mom without thinking about it. But underneath all of that was another thought I couldn’t get rid of.

They were going home to Richard.

Samantha would see him tonight. Luke would see him tonight.

And I would go back to my cell.

“Tell Richie I understand,” I said before they could leave. “He probably couldn’t come today. He’ll come next time. I know he will.”

Samantha looked at me for a second before nodding. “I’ll tell him.”

“Tell him I asked about him.”

“I will.”

“Bye, Luke.”

He gave me a small wave. “Bye, Maggie.”

Maggie.

Not Mom.

I watched him press against Samantha’s side as they walked away. The door closed behind them, and I kept staring at it long after they were gone. I wondered what Richard would say when Samantha told him I’d asked about him.

I didn’t cry. I just stared at the empty space until the officer escorted me back.

My cellmate looked up when I entered. I sat on the edge of my bunk, staring at the floor. My hand moved on its own, reaching beneath the thin mattress, finding the loose corner. The tiny plastic bag was still there. I pulled it out.

For a second I thought about flushing it. Being better for when he finally came. Instead I poured a small line onto the cover of an old paperback. Leaned down. Inhaled.

The burn hit. My pulse spiked, then the numbness rolled in like fog. The prison sounds faded. Luke’s polite little “Bye, Maggie” softened. Samantha’s face blurred. Even the ache in my chest dulled.

Only Richard remained.

Maybe Samantha never told him. Maybe work kept him away. Maybe next month. Or next year. Maybe he was just waiting until I got out.

He’d come. He had to. I curled onto the narrow bunk, pulling the thin blanket around me. I closed my eyes. The high wrapped around everything except the one thing it could never touch.

Richard.