“Mrs. Gupta from downstairs is with them.”
Briar nodded distractedly. “That’s nice of her.”
“She doesn’t mind. She loves the kids.”
The night was considerably cooler than when they’d arrived by ambulance to the hospital. They walked outside to Shelley’s car in the parking lot. Thankfully, her friend held her peace on the drive home, not prying into the day’s events beyond what she had already been told.
Clearly, she sensed Briar’s need for silence. That was why Briar had called Shelley. She was easy. No judgment. No pestering. Dread washed over her at the thought of Laurel ever learning of the day’s events. Briar didn’t relish hearing her say: “I told you so.”
Soon Shelley was parking in front of their building and they walked together up the second flight of stairs to their doors.
“Sure you don’t need anything?” Shelley asked, pausing with Briar outside their doors. “If you don’t want to be alone you could stay the night with us. The kids would love to wake up and find you there. I can make pancakes in the morning.”
Briar shook her head. Right now the empty solace of her apartment beckoned. She wanted to close the door and lock herself away from the world. “No, I’m okay, really.”
“All right. Touch base with me tomorrow so I don’t worry about you, okay?” Shelley stepped forward and hugged her, patting her on the back several times before letting her go.
Once inside, Briar collapsed against the length of her door for a long moment, reveling in the humming silence. She was home. She was safe and in one piece. Thanks to Knox Callaghan. Knox Callaghan, who clearly possessed a noble streak and happened to be still locked up in that prison. It seemed vastly unfair that he was still in there with men like Gronsky and Pritchard.
Pushing off the door, she hurried to her bathroom and stripped off her scrubs. She kicked them in the corner, positive she would never wear them again.
She hesitated in front of her floor--length mirror, her gaze traveling over her ravaged face before slipping down, fixing on the bruises on her arms. Four perfectly delineated fingerprints marked each forearm.
Her face crumpled. Tears broke free from her burning eyes. She couldn’t hold them back any longer. Naked, she slid down the wall, watching her anguished reflection in the mirror. She wrapped her arms around her knees and wept, wiping at her wet cheeks and snotty nose. She cried for what had happened, for what she had almost become today. A victim. Just like her mother.
And she cried for Knox Callaghan still locked up in that prison.
ELEVEN
KNOX STEPPED INTO the room, not fully understanding what was happening. The room was familiar, as were the -people sitting behind the table, staring at him and making him feel like he was something being examined beneath a microscope. He’d been brought to this same place four months ago for his first parole hearing, where they had resoundingly rejected his release.
A week had passed since the lockdown. If he was in trouble for what went down in the HSU, they would have already acted and enforced whatever consequence they deemed fit. He wouldn’t have been walking around like business as usual.
He knew he had saved Nurse Davis from rape and maybe even worse. Maybe they would have killed her. Or killed Martinez. Or the doctor. Turned out they hadn’t killed the guard. An oversight for them. They hadn’t been about mercy that day.
Still, it didn’t mean that the powers in charge wouldn’t find him at fault. He squared his shoulders and took a careful breath. He wasn’t fool enough to think his actions had earned him any points. He was no hero in anyone’s eyes. Chester had conveyed that message clearly enough at the first opportunity.
After they hauled him from the HSU, they’d taken him to the hole. Chester had stopped by to taunt him through the door. “So I hear you played Superman in there,” he sneered. “Is that what you think you are now? Some fucking hero?”
Knox had held silent. He knew well enough that no one cared about what he had to say. He learned more keeping his mouth shut anyway. And sure enough, Chester kept on talking.
“You got that doctor fooled telling everyone that you saved them . . . but not me. Don’t think this is going to change anything for you. You’re still scum, Callaghan.”
Ironically, he had been released from seg an hour later with no explanation. Apparently the doctor had succeeded in persuading the powers that be that he wasn’t involved in the attack. He liked to think Briar Davis had a hand in that, too. That she had found her voice to speak on his behalf. It shouldn’t matter. It shouldn’t have been a hope, but there it was.
Gazing at the suits behind the table, he realized Warden Carter sat behind the table, too. Knox had never had occasion to speak to him before, but he was seated at the center of the table, two men on both sides of him.