Night Road

“Don’t say that, Lexi. ”

Lexi swallowed hard. She knew what she had to do. Eva would have to be forced to let go. “I won’t see you again, Eva. It won’t do you any good to come back. ”

“Oh, Alexa…”

It was all in that softly spoken name—the regret, the disappointment, the loss—and it hurt to hear it; mostly it hurt to know that she was pushing away the only person in the world who loved her. But it was for Eva’s own good.

And wasn’t that what love was supposed to be?

“When I get out, I’ll come to Florida,” Lexi said.

“I won’t let you do this,” Eva said, her eyes filling with tears.

“No. I won’t let you do this,” Lexi said. “Give me this, Eva. Please. Let me do this for you. It’s all I can do. ”

Eva sat there a long time. Then, finally, she wiped her eyes. “I’ll write every week. ”

Lexi could only nod.

“And I’ll send pictures. ”

They kept talking, both of them trying to say everything that was needed, building up a store of words that would keep them warm come winter. But finally, the time was over, and Eva got to her feet. She looked even older now, more tired. And Lexi knew she’d done the right thing.

“Good-bye, Alexa,” Eva said.

Lexi stood there, nodding. “Thanks for…” Her voice broke.

Eva pulled her into a hug and held on to her tightly. “I love you, Alexa,” she said.

Lexi was shaking when she drew back. “I love you, too, Eva. ”

Eva looked at her through shiny eyes. “And you remember this: I knew your mama. You are nothing like her, you hear me? And don’t you let this place change that. ”

And then she left.

Lexi stood there for as long as she could see her aunt. Finally, she left the visitors’ room and returned to her cell. She hadn’t been there for more than forty minutes when a guard came and stood in the open doorway.

“Baill. Get your things. ”

Lexi scooped up her few belongings—toiletries, letters, photographs—and put them in a dented shoe box, then she followed the guard into the main section of the prison.

All around her, women were stomping their feet and calling out to her. In the steel and concrete prison, the noise was thunderous. Lexi didn’t look up, just kept her belongings pressed to her chest and her eyes downcast.

The guard stopped suddenly.

The cell door in front of them buzzed loudly, clicked, and opened.

The guard stepped aside. “Inside, Baill. This is your permanent cell. ”

Lexi stepped around the guard’s bulky body and peered into the cell that would probably be her home for the next sixty-three months.

The cement walls were plastered with photographs and drawings and magazine ads. A heavyset woman sat on the lower bunk, her broad shoulders slumped forward, her thick, heavily tattooed arms resting on her bent knees. She had long, ropey strands of gray-black hair and dark skin. Moles dotted her cheeks, and tattoos curled around her throat.

The door clanged shut behind her. “I’m Lexi,” she said, having to clear her throat before she had enough confidence to add, “Baill. ”

“Tamica,” the woman said, and Lexi was surprised by the pretty sound of her voice. “Hernandez. ”

“Oh. ”