Chapter Seven
Chapter Seven
“You better sleep while you can,” a low unexpected voice said.
Ricky released the curtain he’d been holding cracked open and turned to the voice. His eyes took a moment to adjust.
“Unless they put you on the wrong shift?” the voice asked. “In which case you better tell them now. Not that I don’t admire your gall. But you won’t be the first diurnal who tried that gag here. Doesn’t sit well with the court officers. They are going to force you to go out at night, you know. The guards seem to get a kick out it, too.”
“I know,” Ricky answered. He could now start to see the man talking to him—a few years younger than his dad, probably in his early forties, wearing a British-style denim cap.
“Smoke?” the man offered, extending a package of cigarettes. Ricky smil
