The first thing I had to do was become boring.
Not weak. Not broken. Just unremarkable. A prisoner who had stopped fighting, stopped testing the walls, stopped being something the guards needed to pay close attention to. I had learned from my earlier escape attempt that obvious resistance only made them tighten everything around me. What I needed was the opposite. I needed to become furniture.
It took about four days to get the shift right.
I stopped getting up when they opened the door. I started sitting in the same spot every time they came in, back against the left wall, knees drawn up, eyes not quite focused on anything. I ate everything they brought without the hesitation I had been showing since I found out about the pregnancy and started worrying about what was in the food. I sto
