“But it’s not your fault,” Brenda broke in. “Margaret hated her.”
“What happened?” I waited in horror, my heart thudding hard in my chest.
Amber’s words came out in a rush. “They were watching the news last night and Helen started saying how she was going to kick your ass when you came back. Margaret told her off, then later they met in the yard—we didn’t know Margaret planned on fighting her or we would’ve stopped her. Helen had a shank…” Amber was crying so hard she couldn’t finish.
“Did she stab her? Is she in the infirmary?”
Brenda was shaking her head, tears running down her face too. “She didn’t make it.”
I started to cry, deep gasping sobs. Both of the girls were still trying to fight their own tears, all of us helpless to comfort each other with an embrace, the security cameras watching. When I finally got control of myself, my sorrow had turned to pure rage.
“Where’s Helen?” I was going to fuck her up good.
“She’s in segregation,” Brenda said. “They’ll throw her into maximum now. She’ll never get out of Rockland.”
It meant I was safe. I should’ve been relieved. I got up and paced my cell.
“Why did Margaret fight her? She should have waited until I got back in here.”
“I don’t know,” Brenda said. “She was always telling us to walk away from stuff. And she was really tired lately—and sore. It doesn’t make sense that she’d take Helen on by herself.”
Amber said, “She left something for you in her cell before the fight. Her roommate gave it to us.” She glanced up at the nearest camera. “We’ll get it to you later.”
The guards called out, “Count!” and the girls went back to their cells, after we promised we’d see each other at chow in the morning.
Later, when lights were out, I thought of Margaret and how she’d managed to avoid fights the whole time she was in prison, until this last one. Then I remembered the last time I saw her, begging me for a massage, saying that she didn’t know how much longer she could live in there, her body in constant pain. Had she picked a fight with Helen knowing she’d lose? And knowing that it was the only way to make sure Helen could never hurt me again?
I was devastated, thinking that she might have sacrificed herself for me. Then I remembered something else Margaret had said, when we were talking about Nicole. “You can’t blame yourself for something someone else chose to do. You didn’t force her into that truck, and you didn’t kill her. Blaming yourself is just weak, and it pisses me off hearing you punish yourself, like you don’t deserve to ever be happy or something. I don’t want to hear that crap out of your mouth again.”
And so I tried to think of Margaret now, finally free from pain, maybe dancing with a gorgeous man, spinning around and around in a long, flowing dress, a beautiful smile on her face. She’d told me that death wasn’t the hard part, living was. I tried to find peace in knowing that the hard part was over for her.
*
Amber showed up at my cell the next day with some papers bundled together in a makeshift book. On the front Margaret had scrawled, For Toni. After Amber left, I took a breath and opened the book, wondering what had been so important that Margaret had made a point of leaving it for me. Inside the first page she’d tucked a note:
Toni, if you’re reading this, I guess the fight didn’t go so well. I just hope I took that bitch down with me!!! I planned on mailing this to you but didn’t get a chance to finish. You’ll do fine. See you on the other side, kid. Love, M.
My eyes filling with tears, I flipped through the pages and cried even harder when I saw what she had done. She’d jotted down recipes, household tips, life lessons, inspirational quotes, jokes, anything she thought would help me survive on the outside. Anything she thought a mother would tell her daughter.
For the next few days, I spent a lot of time in my cell, thinking about Margaret, how much she had meant to me. Brenda and Amber were also grieving, and we had a makeshift memorial for Margaret in the yard, sharing stories. Now that Helen was out of the picture none of her friends messed with me, but there was still some tension. I wondered how long it would take before my case would go before the Court of Appeals. Angus was trying to get a hearing, but he said it could take up to three months.
One day, when I’d been in for almost a week, I had a visitor. The visit wasn’t scheduled, so I was surprised when one of the guards came to get me. I was even more surprised to see my visitor was Suzanne.
“What’s going on?” I sat down across from her.
She eyed me from the other side of the table, which was covered with bags of chips, a couple of chocolate bars from the vending machine, and two cans of Coke. “You’ve lost more weight.”
I pulled at my shirt, made a face. “I’ve been under some stress.”