CHAPTER 13
BALDWIN STATE PRISON WAS LOCATED IN MILLEDGEVILLE, GEORGIA.
Some of the worst offenders of Georgia’s most grievous crimes end up at Baldwin, a male-only prison.
Over the years, Sidney had made her share of visits.
She had gotten to know a few of the guards, who joked about which convict she was going to set loose.
It had been six months since her last journey to Georgia, and she wasn’t sure why she chose this weekend to visit Baldwin.
She blamed Luke Barrington. The voice that whispered from the dark corners of her mind, telling her that The Girl of Sugar Beach was too difficult a project to pull off, also played a part.
And like a ten-year-old running from the playground, Sidney ignored the thought that she was seeking condolence on this trip to Baldwin.
It was too pitiful to consider, so she pretended it wasn’t true.
She went through the now-habitual routine of signing forms, showing ID, walking through metal detectors, standing crucifix-like while a guard ran a wand up and down her body, and allowing a polite female guard to pat her down to check for drugs and weapons.
After thirty minutes, she was allowed to sit in a waiting room with a half-dozen other visitors.
Leslie Martin, her coproducer, had sent video footage she was hoping to include in the pilot, and Sidney spent her time watching the clips on her phone and making notes.
Eventually a staff member slid the glass partition open.
“Sidney Ryan.”
Sidney looked up from her phone and raised her hand.
“You’re up, darlin’,” the woman said.
Sidney walked to the door next to the glass partition and pulled it open after the woman buzzed it unlocked.
“No camera crew?” the woman asked.
Sidney smiled. “Not today.”
The woman pointed down a row of booths, where glass barriers separated visitors from inmates.
“Number six.”
“Thanks,” Sidney said as she headed down the row.
She was always careful to pay no attention to the other visitors sharing this intimate time with those that were locked away.
She kept her eyes down and stared at her feet until she was seated in her booth.
Only then did she look up at the glass divider.
Sometimes he was seated there, waiting. At other times, he appeared from a side door as a guard walked him to the booth.
Today she waited nearly five minutes for him to materialize.
The orange suit he wore looked far too big.
His skinny, pale arms leaked from the sleeves like wilting vines.
He offered a subtle smile as he sat down.
She knew inmates learned only that they had a visitor, not the identity.
He picked up the phone and placed it to his ear. Sidney did the same.
They stared at each other without saying a word. Sidney blinked a few times and finally spoke.
“Hi, Dad.”