CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
Grace
Being in solitary, there’s not much to do. I keep asking to see my children, but I keep getting the same answer. Everything in time.
One afternoon, after what feels like an eternity, otherwise known as eleven days, the two officers who came before show up.
It’s Wagnon who escorts me from my tiny, cell-like room to an office where there is a table and chairs and nothing more.
I feel fear in the pit of my stomach. Have they come with news about Charles? Have they found him? And what if the news isn't good? What am I going to do about it from in here? The answer is: not much.
Wagnon takes a seat in the corner, her old face scrunched up like a shriveled raisin.
“We’d like to revisit a few things,” the officer says, motioning toward a chair. “Please take a seat.”
