Chapter 8 - Whispers in the Dark
The Massachusetts State Penitentiary at Walpole was a sprawling complex of grim gray granite and razor wire that cut a brutal silhouette against the desolate winter horizon.
Inside maximum-security cell block B, Adrian Lark paced the concrete floor of his six-by-eight-foot cage like a caged animal. His orange jumpsuit was oversized, his hair was unwashed, and the manic desperation that had once driven him to assault his own sister had curdled into a bitter, consuming paranoia.
He walked to the iron bars, peering out into the dim, fluorescent-lit corridor where a guard was slowly making his rounds.
“Hey,” Adrian rasped, his voice cracked and dry. “Hey, officer. Did my mother call? Did she file the appeal?”
The guard didn't even slow his pace. He didn't look at Adrian. He just tapped his baton rhythmically against the iron bars as he walked past.
“Shut your mouth and lock it down, Lark. Lights out in five.”
Adrian slumped against the cold stone wall, sliding down until he hit the floor, pulling his knees up to his chest.
Across the hall, a hardened inmate serving a life sentence for armed robbery watched him with cold, mocking amusement.
“First time inside, pretty boy?” the inmate rasped from the gloom.
Adrian didn't answer. He buried his face in his hands.
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For the first time in his thirty-two years of life, there was no father’s checkbook to bail him out. There was no mother’s frantic phone call to smooth over his crimes. There was no sister to secretly fix his mistakes while he took the credit. There was only the consequence of his own actions, echoing off concrete walls that would keep him locked away for a decade.
He closed his eyes, and for a fleeting, terrifying second, he was back in that glittering ballroom. He could feel the cold marble beneath his knees. He could hear his own pathetic sobbing echoing off the crystal chandeliers. He could see Elena’s cold, unblinking grey eyes looking down at him—not as a brother, but as a criminal who had finally reached the end of the road.
