Pushing Send (13 page)

“Okay, pull up the sleeve.”

I reluctantly do as asked, only because I notice Lucia is now shackled to a chair just outside the door, staring at me with a mischievous smirk.

I don’t like her.

I look at Timms while the nurse, Margaret, pricks me. I don’t flinch; I just stare back at Lucia. Lucifer.

“Okay,” Nurse Margaret says as she places the plastic cap over the needle and discards it in the hazard box beside me on the wall. Then she takes a marker out of her hot pink and yellow flowered scrub shirt and marks my arm.

“Let’s go,” Timms says, walking out the door.

I glance down at Seanna, who has not moved, before walking out.

We walk through a cafeteria, where the round tables have attached seats, and there are approximately thirty of them.

“This is Café Tryon,” Timms says as she continues toward the large hall I walked in through. “Three times a day, you will come in and eat. From what I understand, the food is pretty good.” We walk out the set of large, metal doors she has to unlock first and then turn right down another hallway. “Administrative offices are down here. That’s where the director, assistant director, and YDC’s offices are. Normally, you would be taken to the Intake Unit directly after search and shower, but Mrs. Keller seems to want to chat with you.” She stops, unlocks the doors, and then we pass through. “Director Darrow’s office is first. Assistant Directors Fallen and Newcumber are here.” She points across the hall to two doors side by side. “YDC Keller’s office is here.”

She leans in the open doorway. “Oh, sorry to interrupt, Netta and Isaiah.”

“No. It’s fine. Just give us one minute,” I hear Mrs. Keller, or Netta, respond.

When she looks back at me and smiles, I look down.

“See you at home. Love you,” I hear Mrs. Keller say from inside the door.

Mr. Keller walks out of the room and looks at me, his lips forming a straight line. “You good?”

I nod once, and then he walks away.

“Come on in, Hadley,” she calls from inside.

Timms walks in behind me.

“Have a seat.” She looks up at Timms. “I think we’ll be fine.”

Timms puts her hand on my shoulder, “You’re going to be fine.”

When she closes the door behind me, Mrs. Keller pushes a file toward me. “This is everything documented about Hadley Asher, a very small file. You can look if you’d like. You are a great student, not even a write up all through school until the incident happened. I know there are two sides to a story—”

“Can you please tell me why I am here? I mean, really why? I didn’t push post. I didn’t do what they think. I—” The tears don’t fall; they pour. It figures, the minute I find my voice again, I drown it in tears.

She leans forward, hands me a tissue, and shakes her head slowly. “Hadley, I want you to know this is a first for me. I have never seen something like this. I don’t know how they think they can charge you with manslaughter because a girl killed herself. It makes no sense to me, and trust me, I have been looking all over the internet, trying to find a newly placed law or something that makes sense here. Nothing does.” Confusion must show in my face because she continues, “I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“No, I want to know.”

“A judge obviously gave a warrant. I know your parents have contacted a lawyer—”

“Did you talk to them?” I gasp out.

“Yes, they called here about a half an hour after you left then again an hour ago, just as you got here.”

“Are they okay?” I don’t know why I ask this. She doesn’t know them. For a moment, I wish my voice had stayed lost.

“No, Hadley, they are not. They are as perplexed about all the things going on, as I am and so is the lawyer.”

“Can I talk to them? Can I—?”

“Hadley, we have rules, ones I have to go by. I will tell you that they are coming here Saturday and that your lawyer is working hard to get you into court. But I don’t want to get your hopes up, okay? I am your counselor here. I can help with many things, but you have to want it just as badly as I want to give it to you.”

“I want it. I swear I want it.”

“What happened at Intake cannot happen again.”

I have no idea how I pushed passed being pissed over Intake, but maybe it’s because each moment in here seems worse than the moment before.

“Hadley, Mr. Keller—”

“Your husband.”

“Yes,” She nods. “He is not okay with what went on, not in the slightest. He really thought you would do as you were told and what you forced him into—”

“They stripped me,” I say, scowling down at my lap.

“You gave them no choice, Hadley.”

I fiddle with my hands because I guess she is right, but… “It doesn’t seem right.”

“I understand, but the rules are here to keep everyone safe and the facility secure. Do you understand?”

I nod.

“Okay. Look at me, Hadley.” I look up. “I am not your enemy. The staff is not your enemy. You are the only person in here who can be your enemy. Follow the rules, keep to yourself, and wait this out. You have me here and your family at home, working to help you.”

I swallow hard. “Thank you.”

“Okay, so next you go to the Direction Unit. I don’t know how long you’ll be there. You should find out more soon. But, Hadley, just follow directions.”

chapter nine

Intake

I follow Mrs. Keller through the light gray halls toward a door that leads outside.

“This is quad C. It has four buildings, one being Intake.” She points behind her then left. “Direction Unit is where you will be staying for now. You’ll learn the rules while you stay at Direction Unit. If you do well, you’ll move from here to Adjustment Unit, then Changeover Unit.” She points to all the buildings surrounding us. “Then, you can possibly be moved to Privilege Unit. With each movement, there is less structure, more responsibility, and more freedom within the facility.”

She grabs the key on her wristband and sticks it in the lock. As she turns the key, my stomach mimics its motion.

For a moment, I look to my left, seeking an escape.

“Hadley, think about what I have said. I cannot help you if you don’t help yourself. Do yourself a favor and think about this.”

I feel my breathing become more rapid as Mrs. Keller holds the door open wider and whispers, “One step at a time.”

Two women in grey uniforms stand up from a shared table at the opposite side of the wide open room when we walk in.

“This is Hadley. She is to be added to your count,” Mrs. Keller says as she walks toward them, and I follow. “Hadley, this is Ms. Hanson”—she points to the younger, dark-haired woman and then the older woman with the long, brown ponytail—“and Mrs. Reaves. They will give you a handbook of rules and expectations. Read it, learn it, and obey. Things will go much smoother that way.” She turns to the guards, “Need anything from me?”

They shake their heads, and she turns to leave. I turn with her. I don’t really like the woman, but she is the first person I have felt was on my side since I left my parents.

“Can’t I go with you?” There is a plea in my voice.

She turns back, slowly shakes her head, and gives me a sad smile, “Read the handbook, Hadley.”

When she walks away, I turn when my name is called.

“Come with me, and we will get you set up.” Hanson walks toward the wall and looks back at me. “Come on, we have a very structured program that you need to learn as quickly as possible.” I stand next to her, following her finger as she points to a large, framed poster. “Direction Unit’s rules are posted here. They are also in your handbook. Not too hard to learn. Everything you do is directed, leaving zero reasons to screw up.” Before I have time to read them, she is moving again. “Come on.”

“But I didn’t—”

“Just follow direction. That’s it. Simple.” She walks toward a closet and uses her keys to open it. “Sheets, pillow case, blanket,” she says as she pulls each stark white item off its labeled shelf and hands them to me. Next, I am given two pairs of white pajamas, underpants, sports bras, a tee shirt, a pair of sweats, two pairs of socks, and a blue terrycloth bathrobe.

My arms are overfilled, and I am staring at the robe. Immediately, I feel pending tears again.

The water, the sky, and all things blue are now a tormentor in this place where the air nearly crushes my lungs, and stark white and gray colors burn my eyes.

“This way,” she says as she steps back, after locking the closet door.

I look up, hoping to focus on where I am supposed to be going and allow my eyes to look about the wide open interior of the building with walls of doors surrounding the perimeter.

I see four rows of gray chairs, five chairs in a row each, separated by a wooden end table. There is a large, metal cabinet with a television on top, not a flat screen, either.

The other side of the room has rows of desks that are surrounded on three sides with a blind of sorts, so that the person sitting at the desk could not see them. It reminds me of a time out or corner a petulant child would be put in. Each has a person—or resident as the staff here refers to us, criminals—seated at one.

Something trips me, and my arm load of Tryon-issued linens and clothing fly in the air as I crash down on the hard, commercial-grade carpeted floor. I immediately push myself up as the sting on the left side of my face intensifies, and the ringing in my left ear drowns out the sounds beside me. Then I see Hanson grab the girl I recognize as Lucia and shuffle her to the entrance.

“One out of program,” Reaves announces into a hand held walkie-talkie.

Over a PA system, I hear, “Alpha team to Unit D. Alpha team to Unit D.”

“D Unit, to your rooms. Doors shut behind you,” Reaves’s voice directs authoritatively.

I stand, looking around, not knowing what to do as Reaves walks around the room, checking each door to make sure they are locked as Lucia screams and swears in the foyer.

She looks at me, “Pick up your things and get to room one.”

I quickly do as I am told. As I watch out of the doorway of room one, I see the building entrance door open, and three large men come in. Lucia laughs as she is taken to the ground again. When they have dragged her to her room and shut the door, locking her in, I watch the five guards discussing something, although I can’t hear them.

I look across the massive room and see Seanna holding up a book through her window and motioning to close the door. She looks terrified as she makes the motion again.

I shut the door and look around the tiny closet they call a room. There is a small, twin bed, covered with a plastic mattress cover; a narrow desk directly across from it; and next to it is a small dresser with a bookshelf attached to the top.

I take a deep breath and swallow, only now allowing myself to relax for more than a second. A second is all I get.

My door opens, and Reaves says, “Line up for dinner.”

I walk out and look around, watching the other girls line up like we did in elementary school, except it isn’t. It’s one behind the other each, an arm length apart.

I stand at the end, hoping Lucifer doesn’t end up behind me because, as nice as I was raised to be, if she tries to hit me, push me, kick me, or in any way bring me pain, I will unleash all the anger inside of me. Maybe then a charge such as manslaughter will finally make sense to me.

We walk the short distance to the intake building where the guard unlocks the door, and I follow the person ahead of me inside. Then we walk to the end of the food line, collect a metal tray and plastic silverware, and take a plate of cafeteria food, all in silence. The line moves slowly, and at the end, I realize why. The nurse is standing at the end, handing out medication to some of the residents.

“Dear God,” she says when she sees me. “Hadley, what happened?”

“Lucia,” Hanson answers for me.

I place my hand over my face and wonder what it looks like.

“Did it get cleaned up?” the nurse asks.

“No time—”

The nurse holds up her hand, stopping her, looking annoyed. “Hadley, come with me.”

After she cleans up what is a rug burn on my face, she brings me back to the table, and Hanson brings my tray and sets it down.

“Eat up. You have ten minutes.”

I am at a table with three other residents. None look up, none say a word, so I follow suit.

On my tray is peas, peaches, bread and butter, some sort of pot pie, and milk. I don’t touch anything.

“You’ll get put on watch if you don’t eat,” I hear a whisper and look up. No one is looking at me, so I look down. “Gotta eat something. You’ll get in trouble.”

I don’t touch anything.

“Five minutes,” is announced.

Hanson comes over and stands next to me. “Eat your dinner, Hadley.”