The words come out before I can stop them, and the second they do, I hate myself.
Because it's not true. It's just how grief talks in here. How prison makes you think your life is already over before the sentence even starts.
Then Diego tilts his head. "Hey. Who's Olivia?"
And the air changes.
My whole body stiffens.
"Just a girl," I say too quickly. "Why?"
"Just a girl, huh?" He gives me the kind of look only family can give you. "She's been asking around about you. You should reach out."
For a second I can't breathe.
She was asking about me.
The words hit me harder than the cuffs. Harder than the sentence. Harder than anything since I got locked up. Because it means I wasn't erased. It means she still thinks about me. It means my name still exists somewhere outside these walls.
My throat closes up. "You told her where I was?"
"No," Diego says, then hesitates. "But your dad did."
That lands like a punch, except it's followed by something worse. Relief, maybe. Hope. The kind that hurts because it doesn't stay still.
Diego laughs, trying to lighten it. "Uncle Ernie's always been nosy as hell."
I let out a shaky breath that almost turns into a laugh and almost turns into a sob. "Both of our parents," I manage. "Remember junior year? I was talking to that girl outside of school and Aunt Val ran up like she was the FBI? Interrogated her about whether we were being safe."
Diego actually laughs then, through the tears. "That's Ma."
"Wrap it up!" the guard barks, stealing the moment before it can turn into something softer.
"Yeah," Diego says, breaking into a crooked grin. "That's what she said."
A snort escapes me before I can stop it, and just like that I'm laughing too, shaking my head. I missed this. Diego's stupid dad jokes. The way he can still drag a little light into a place that tries its hardest to crush it out of you.
We all stand.
Steve gives me a respectful nod. Diego blows me an exaggerated kiss, and for one split second I'm back in a world where the people I love still feel close enough to touch.
The guard turns me around.
The walk back to my cell feels longer than the one coming in. The cuffs bite into my wrists, the fluorescent lights hum overhead, and every step echoes too loud in the narrow hall. But none of that is what sticks with me.
It's the fact that Olivia is thinking of me.
How she found me to write me that letter.
And I still can't tell if that's mercy or punishment.
CHAPTER 8
RAUL
…15 years old
This morning is the first day of sophomore year, and I'm already miserable about it. I've spent the last few years doing online school, but Aunt Val insisted I go to Diego's school now. She said I needed to get out of the house, meet people, and stop acting like life ended the second Mom died. Easy for her to say.