Chay couldn't speak. Her mouth moved, but words wouldn't come. Her shoulders shook against Guy's chest, her sobs coming in gasps now. The word mother echoed in her mind.
Ever since she was born, prison walls had been the only setting for her family reunions. Her earliest memories weren't birthday cakes or bedtime stories—they were security checks, visiting windows, guards with tired eyes and pity in their stares. Her father had been serving life, and her mother… she had hope. She was supposed to get out. To be free. To sit beside her at dinner.
"She was supposed to get out," she murmured again.
Nita placed a hand on Chay's shoulder again, tears threatening to spill from her own eyes. "I know, baby. I know."
Guy looked at her, still holding her tightly.
"Whatever you need," he said into her hair. "I'm not going anywhere."
Guy just held her, his hand stroking slow circles on her back.
Guy looked up at Nita. "I'll bring her."
"Thank you," Nita replied gently.
*****
