Chapter 3
Evelyn's POV
The police car pulls away and Marcus is still shouting through the window. "Three days! I'll come get you myself in three days!"
He sounds so sure. I almost believe him.
But on my first day in detention, I realize how ridiculous those words were.
The head inmate is a middle-aged woman with a face like a bulldog. She looks me up and down. "New fish? You look soft."
First night, they don't let me sleep. Someone keeps banging a metal cup next to my ear. Someone else kicks my bed frame every few minutes. I keep my eyes shut while my temples pound.
Second day, they make me scrub the toilets.
The stains are dried black and crusty. The smell makes me gag. I'm on my knees, scraping at the grime with my bare hands. It packs under my fingernails. The brush shreds my fingertips raw. Blood and filthy water run together.
At mealtime, the head inmate sits down in front of me with her hot food. She waves the spoon in my face, then dumps the whole thing on me. Scalding soup soaks through my clothes. I gasp.
My tray only ever has stale bread and cold soup.
The head inmate corners me later. She grabs my arm and digs her nails in deep, twisting.
"Heard your family's loaded. You better start showing me some respect."
I don't answer. She lets go, then grabs my hair and shoves my head into the sink. Ice-cold water rushes up my nose. I'm thrashing but my lungs are burning.
Right when I think I'm going to die, she yanks me back up.
Third day, it gets worse. Someone kicks me from behind while I'm squatting. I fall forward and my ribs slam into the concrete. I can barely breathe.
At night, I'm curled up on the hard bed. Everything hurts. My arms, my back, my stomach. Bruises everywhere. I think about what Marcus said. "I already worked things out with people inside."
So this is his arrangement.
It's almost funny. I should've known from the moment I signed that form. To him, I'm just a tool.
But it's almost over anyway. My body can't hold out much longer.
Better to just let it end like this.
Across town, Marcus is sitting in his office when something sharp twists in his chest.
A weird pain, like his heart's clenching.
He drinks some water and tells himself he's been working too hard.
But then he sees it. My back as the police led me away. My empty eyes when I signed that form.
He shakes it off.
He made the arrangements. She's just sleeping somewhere else for three days. Once Kaley's surgery is done, everything will be fine.
He does owe her. But all of this is to save Kaley. She should understand.
He picks up his phone. "Work out a settlement with the victim's family ASAP. I don't care what it costs. Get bail handled within three days."
Fourth day, I'm sitting in the corner staring at the sky through the bars.
I tell myself he's not coming.
But part of me still hopes.
He doesn't come.
It's not until late afternoon on the fifth day that the door opens.
His lawyer finally shows up, but he's not bringing bail. He just tells me the victim's family won't settle. They lawyered up. Marcus is still working on it. But Kaley got worse suddenly. The surgery has to happen now. Marcus needs me there immediately.
I touch the bruises on my arm. My head's splitting. I laugh.
So he's rushing to get me out, but not because he feels bad.
It's because my kidney can't wait.
I push myself up. "Let's go."
Marcus, this is the last time I'm being stupid for you.
When I walk out, it's pouring.
The entrance is empty. The lawyer's already in his car, window cracked. "Mr. Sterling is at the hospital with Kaley. Grab an Uber. Don't be late. OR's ready."
He drives off.
I dig through my pockets. A few crumpled bills. Barely enough for a ride.
Rain runs down my hair. My clothes are soaked in seconds. I flag down a cab and give the hospital address.
The rain gets heavier. I lean back. My body feels weightless, like I'm floating.
At the hospital, I head straight to the VIP room.
Before I reach the door, I hear laughter.
"Marcus, when I get better, can we go to the Maldives for our honeymoon?" Kaley's voice is sugar-sweet.
"Sure. Whatever you want." His voice drips with affection.
Then Mom. "Our baby girl can have anything!"
I'm standing outside and suddenly feel sick.
I grab the doorframe to stay upright.
Marcus pushes the door open and walks out.
He sees me and freezes. Then frowns. "What happened to you? You look like hell. Go wash up and get ready."
A nurse takes me to prep.
Lying on the cold gurney, I stare at the lights above. My mind goes blank.
They wheel Kaley in next to me.
She sees me and her eyes go wide. Then she giggles behind her hand. "Oh my God, sis. Where have you been? You're a mess."
She leans close and whispers. "Want to know a secret? I've been faking this whole time."
I look at her. I feel nothing.
Of course I know.
When has she ever looked actually sick? But what's the point? If I said anything, they'd just think I was jealous. Trying to cause trouble.
Better to go along with it than make things worse.
I'm dying soon anyway.
The gurney starts moving.
As we pass Marcus, I speak.
"If you ever realize," I say, meeting his eyes, "that you hated the wrong person and loved the wrong person, don't cry."
