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The officer stopped outside a narrow cell. “I know, but they moved your belongings after you were sentenced. You will now be housed in Unit F.”

He looked inside. “Owens, you’ve got a roommate.”

A woman with braided purple hair glanced up from her bunk, then grinned and jumped down from the top bunk.

“Finally,” she said as she approached the now-open metal door.

The officer left us, and as she welcomed me, something in that smile immediately put me on edge.

“I’m Kaniece Owens. You can call me Niecey.” She held out her hand to shake mine.

“Hey. I’m Justice. Justice Kingsley.” I noticed my stuff was neatly folded and set on the bottom bunk. I was still in shock as I sat, replaying the verdict I’d been smacked in the face with.

“Seven years,” I whispered, more to myself than anyone.

“Huh?” Niecey asked.

“I’m sorry. I just received my sentence, and I was given seven years.”

“Damn, at least you ain‘t getting thirteen. I’ll be released in 2033. Hopefully I can get an early release for good behavior. I miss my little sister so much.”

“What did you do to get thirteen years?” I asked nervously.

She laughed, saying, “I’m not some weirdo or anything.” She explained, “My younger sister told me that our stepdad had been touching her. One day, while I was drinking, I noticed one of his hugs lasted too long and his hand moved too far down her back. I had already told our mom. She promised she would handle it, but I knew she didn’t do anything, given how comfortable he was, so I took action myself.” She paused as if reliving that moment.

She continued, “Although the liquor took over, I wore his ass. I didn’t play that perverted, predatory shit. I beat his ass to the point that, last I heard, he’s still in a coma. I’ve been here almost two years. If he’s still in a coma when I’m released, I know for a fact I’d be tempted to get up to the hospital he’s in and beat his ass again until I finish the job.”

“You don’t care about going back to jail?” Although I understood her logic, prison fucking sucked.

“Naw, not really. Shit, in here, when you beat up a predator, you get VIP treatment. So the past two years have been a breeze for me,” she admitted.

“I can respect that.”

We talked all day and all night, and she quickly became someone I was glad to meet, even though at first glance I thought I’d have to fight her ass. She told me about her boyfriend back home. She knew he wasn’t faithful, but she didn’t care. She just appreciated that he answered when she called.

I knew what she meant because the only people I had to call were my sister and my best friend. Ironically, I hated calling them. It was always so awkward. No one really knew what to say. It’s not like we had been in this situation before. Plus, I hated it when they asked, “How are you doing?”

Later that night, I woke to someone gently shaking me. Before my eyes could make out the stranger before me, I tried to scream, but he quickly clamped his hand over my mouth.

“Shhhh, Kingsley. I’m not gonna hurt you. I just want to make sure you’re okay,” he whispered.

I nodded, and he removed his hand from my mouth.

“Wh- what are you doing in here?” I asked, looking behind him toward my cell door.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. I was on my rounds when I heard you crying.”

It wasn’t until he said that I realized my face was wet. I licked my lips and tasted the salt residue of the tears I must have shed in my sleep. I sat up and brushed the remaining moisture from my cheeks with my palms.

“I had a nightmare. I didn’t realize I was crying.”

“It’s okay. I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“Thank you,” I whispered.

“Yeah, of course. Also, I saw you requested another pillow,” he said while handing me a pillow.

“My request was denied.” I frowned, confused.