I’ll admit to having smoked weed once with my sister in the woods. And it had been through a freaking apple because we didn’t have a pipe. We used a pencil to carve out a makeshift tube and bowl area to stuff the tiny bit of weed into. Honestly, my sister had done most of the work. I had sat there wide-eyed the whole time.
She’d graduated, obviously, to smuggling drugs and using me as a distraction since then. I’d graduated from nursing school. I was only trying to smuggle a good time out of my nurse gig.
I didn’t know whether to feed my rage or my panic at that moment.
I was going to jail.
And I hadn’t even done the goddamn crime.
“Bend over and cough.”
Why did I want to cry right now? It wasn’t like the woman was doing anything outside her job. Still, standing there naked and having to cough to see if I’d stuffed you-know-what you-know-where was degrading to say the least. I wanted to scream at the officer that this was a violation of my rights or my freedoms or my privacy or something.
I knew I’d be wrong, though. To them, I was a felon.
And they really believed I could have done it. I’d said as much with my own mouth. I’d claimed the bags as mine, never denying the smuggled drugs shoved in shampoo bottles—lots of them. I wasn’t sure what kind or exactly how much, but I was going to jail for it.
I didn’t know when I would get to make a call or if I would find my sister in here with me. Had they let her go? Would she come for me?
My mind raced as I was handed a grayish-white sheet and a pillow. “Hold on to those if you want to keep them.”
The clothing I put on was scratchy against my damp skin.
It was nothing like the movies. There were no calls allowed, no people I could talk to. I was sent to my cell, just given the number and pointed in that direction. A few women rolled their eyes at me and turned the other way when I nodded to them. Instead of engaging, I tried to keep calm and told myself, “One foot in front of the other.”
I’d figure everything out once I knew where my new home would be. Tears sprang to my eyes at the thought. As I got to my cell, the white bars of the door were a stark indicator that this wasn’t going to be a walk in the park.
To think I’d cried over things in my life before being here seemed trivial. All those tears seemed spoiled now. Is this how Izzy had felt all that time in juvie?
Helpless.
Alone.
Scared.
I was older, but the feelings were still there.
I sighed as I saw the empty mattress on the bottom of a bunk.
“If you’re taking that bed, you better not snore,” came a scratchy voice from above.
“I don’t snore,” I quietly replied, not sure I should introduce myself or just make clear what my cellmate wanted to know. I was a quiet sleeper. None of my siblings ever complained about sleepwalking or anything like that with me.
“Good.” Her scrawny legs hung over the top bunk, and she swung them back and forth as she eyed me up. “Last girl here was loud as shit. Happy her boy got her out quickly. What you in for?”
I cleared my throat. “Um … possession of drugs. I need to make a few phone calls.”
“Good luck. Our bitch of an officer hasn’t given us call time all day.”
That’s when I heard a laugh that sounded just like mine. I threw my stuff on the bunk and hauled ass out of my cell.
I rounded a corner and found her talking to another inmate. She laughed at a joke and seemed completely relaxed, her dark hair braided and hanging over her shoulder.
Izzy fit in everywhere, and here was no different. Somehow, she was gorgeous in the orange jumpsuit and happy to be the center of attention.
Her smile dropped off as soon as she saw me, though. “Delilah? What the fuck? Why are you in here?”
“What the fuck? What do you mean, what the fuck?!” My voice came out like a shrill bird squawking at something. She should have been happy to see me. I’d agonized over her being in here alone and probably sacrificed the next few years of my life for her. For family. And on the flip side, she’d put me here by her actions.
My turmoil whiplashed into anger fast. “Why am I here? How about why are we here?! Should we start with that?”
“I vouched for your innocence in the TSA office.”
“Well.” I cleared my throat. “I vouched for yours.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me.” She dragged a hand down her face. “Oh my God.”
“Um, you’re welcome.” My eyes bulged at her irritation.