“I’ll put in a call to the sheriff’sdepartment. I’ll tell them I got a tip on Sean’s whereabouts. I’lldrop Judge Reynolds’ name too. They’ll sniff him out.”
“You think?”
“I know.”
“What if they don’t find him by nextThursday?”
My uncle shrugs, “We’ll appeal.”
I’m sitting on a metal folding chair in thecorner of the jail’s visitor’s area. I’m dressed in a turtleneck,puffy vest, and jeans. My hair tucked under a pink Yankee’s cap. Ikeep my head down and one knee pulled into my chest as I waitimpatiently.
The room is small and filled with all sortsof people. The diversity is staggering; there’s everyone frommothers with their children to tattooed biker chicks, to groups ofguys who look like they belong in a frat house.
And me; the rebel princess.
The correction officer announces the visitordoor is open, and he’s no-nonsense. He’s young, with light blondhair and a youthful face. Everyone in the room gravitates to theleft, bottlenecking into a single file to get through the metaldoorway. I’m the last one in line. I shuffle behind the crowd, mystress level spiking from the unknown. I step into a large roomwith huge glass windows, ugly yellow cement walls and little seatdividers, each with a small stool and a hanging telephone receiver.It reminds me of a kennel. Most of the seats are taken, but I findan empty one in the middle of the room and sit down. There’s a lowhum of conversation as we wait for the - I’m really going to usethis term - inmates.
After a few, slow minutes, they startshuffling in; a bunch of men in dark green scrubs and cheap slip-onshoes. Okay, I can’t lie; I was expecting orange jump suits. I seeRyan and my heart catapults into my throat. He doesn’t lookthrilled to see me, which is discouraging.
We both pick up the phone when he sits down.“Hey,” I say eagerly, but he can barely look at me.
“Alana, what are you doing here?” his voiceis husky and uncomfortable.
“I wanted to see you. Give you some moralsupport,” I try to say it lightly, but this whole situation is atotal downer.
“You shouldn’t have come,” he looks awaygrimly.
“Ryan,” I murmur, “please look at me.”
He doesn’t turn his head, so I wait patientlyuntil he’s ready to draw his eyes to mine. When he finally does,they’re full of so much pain and resentment and despair.
“I love you, and you being in here doesn’tchange that.”
He stares at me callously, and for the firsttime he’s openly wearing the scars of his past.
“I found Sean,” I tell him, and his faceperks up.
“Where is he?”
“Gone, for now. But my uncle has thesheriff’s department looking for him.”
“Where did you find him?” Ryan asksanxiously.
“Do you really want to know?”
“Alana, you shouldn’t have gone there.”
“I shouldn’t do a lot of things, but that’snever stopped me before.”
Ryan drops his head.
“I didn’t mean you,” I clarify lovingly.“You’ve always been right.”
Ryan lifts his eyes and they’re cloudy withtears. “You’ve been the only good thing in my entire life,” he saysand my heart separates.
“Then please don’t shut me out.”
“I don’t know what else to do. It’s over. Myfate is sealed.” He runs a hand through his hair defeated. “I’vealways known I’d end up here.”