Weeks passed, then a month. Taylor stopped pretending she wasn’t paying attention to the mail cart.
She learned the sound of its wheels against the concrete well enough to recognize it from down the hall. She learned which officer usually ran it, how long it took to reach her section, the slight pause before each cell as names were checked against envelopes.
On the days it didn’t stop at her door, she told herself if didn’t matter. On the days it did, she told herself the same thing. Though neither was entirely true.
“You’re doing it again.”
Taylor glanced up from the letter in her hands to find Denise leaning against the doorframe.
“Doing what?”
Denise tilted her head toward the paper. “That thing where your whole face forgets how to be miserable for five minutes.”
Taylor exhaled s
