Chapter 6
886 Words
Natalie yawned as she stepped into the locker room after punching in for her shift.
Working nights while carrying a full college schedule was finally catching up to her, and she could feel it in every step.
She stopped suddenly.
For half a second, it felt like someone was already in the room with her.
Not a sound.
Not movement.
Just presence.
Her fingers tightened around the strap of her bag before she forced herself to move again.
“Get a grip,” she muttered under her breath.
She was not turning into Mr. Martin.
Still, she gave the locker room a cautious glance before crossing toward her locker.
Empty.
Of course it was empty.
She’d been the only night guard since starting here.
Her hand reached for the locker handle and paused when she noticed the sticky note attached to the front.
Do not go into Cell Block C at midnight.
No basement visits.
-Mr. M
Natalie stared at it longer than she meant to.
Her fingers drifted unconsciously toward her lips as memory flashed through her mind, cold lips brushing softly against hers in the dark.
Heat crept into her cheeks.
“Silly old man.”
The words came out more firmly than she actually felt.
She peeled the note off the locker, crumpled it, and tossed it into the trash.
The room felt colder afterward.
Natalie shrugged off her jacket and reached for her worn thrift-store T-shirt, her skin prickling as the fabric slid upward.
For a second she hesitated.
Waiting.
For what, she wasn’t entirely sure.
Another cold touch.
A brush of air.
Something.
But nothing happened.
Only the chilly locker room air settled against her skin as she changed into the crisp gray uniform shirt that still smelled faintly of detergent and starch.
“Yeah,” she muttered quietly. “That’s what I thought.”
Still, her hand lingered briefly at her waist before she finished changing.
She buttoned the uniform into place, stifling another yawn as she reached for her bag.
Her Campbell Biology textbook had slipped halfway out, the bright yellow flower on the battered cover looking strangely cheerful against the gray concrete and rusted metal around her.
She bent to shove it back inside just as her phone buzzed.
Natalie sighed immediately when she saw the name.
Dad.
She waited for the buzzing to stop before the text notification appeared.
Hey kiddo… been paid yet?
I’m not feeling great. Think I caught something.
Could really use a little help if you can swing it.
Natalie closed her eyes briefly.
Right on schedule.
She typed slowly.
Haven’t been paid yet.
The response came almost instantly.
Soon though right?
Only need $100. I’ll pay you back.
Her jaw tightened.
She looked down at her plain gray uniform, at the exhausted girl standing inside it, and shoved the phone deep into her bag.
A few minutes later, she sat alone in the break room with a diet cola beside her and her biology textbook open to chapter seven.
She drifted off twice before finally giving up and wandering toward the fridge in search of caffeine or sugar or anything capable of keeping her conscious.
She found half a birthday cake instead.
After two generous slices of grocery-store chocolate sheet cake and a solid sugar rush, she managed to focus long enough to reread part of the lecture she had slept through earlier that day.
A few hours later, exhaustion dragged at her again.
Natalie abandoned studying entirely and reached for her phone.
The message from her father still sat there.
Every few days it was something new. Bus fare. Food. Medicine. Always urgent. Always temporary.
And always more money.
Her thumb hovered over the screen.
She should have felt guilty.
He was still her dad.
Mostly, she just felt tired.
She deleted the message.
Then her gaze drifted away from the table.
Past her textbook.
Past the bright safety of the break room.
Toward the dark hallway leading deeper into the prison.
At least the ghosts didn’t lie to her.
The thought slipped into her mind before she could stop it.
And once it was there, it didn’t feel wrong.
Natalie exhaled quietly and dropped her phone beside her bag.
“Later,” she muttered.
He could wait.
He always did.
She picked up her textbook and walked out into the corridor.
The words blurred almost immediately. Concepts she normally understood refused to stick in her head.
She was too exhausted to focus.
But she could focus on the memory of cold fingers against her cheek.
On the way Andrew had looked at her in the moonlight.
Without realizing it, her lips formed his name silently as she walked.
A sudden chill brushed the back of her neck.
Natalie froze.
For one stupid second, she thought he had touched her again.
She shook her head at herself and kept walking, slower now.
Not toward the office.
Toward C Block.
She told herself she wasn’t going there for him.
She simply needed somewhere quiet to study.
Midnight probably hadn’t arrived yet anyway.
And Robert’s cell was quieter than the break room.
The cold reached her before the hallway did.
Natalie stopped at the entrance, her breath catching faintly.
She shouldn’t rush toward him like this.
That looked desperate.
She stepped forward anyway.
- Writer
