CHAPTER 25
“The moment when most doubts are finally cleared is often the one that hurts the most…”
COLIN ADAMS
Once again, today’s one of those days I have to leave the mansion for something I’m not proud of. It’s become part of my routine now—and no matter how wrong it might look to others, I still do what I set out to do.
I noticed Isabelle seemed a little restless, but I chose not to ask. Everyone has their own problems, and I already worry more than I should.
“You know… I’ve been counting the days,” she said out of nowhere as I passed by one of the rooms.
What the hell was that supposed to mean?
“Be clear.”
I didn’t have the patience for cryptic comments—not today, of all days.
“You’re leaving again, aren’t you?”
“Why are you asking?”
She stayed quiet for a moment. I couldn’t quite read her, which wasn’t unusual. Most things involving Isabelle were hard to interpret at first. I had no idea what kind of answer she wanted, but either way, I wasn’t about to tell her what I was doing. That was out of the question.
“You’re doing what I think you’re doing, right? Dealing with that… thing that always makes you angrier when you come back?”
“Don’t start, Isabelle. It’s none of your business.” I tried to keep my voice calm.
“Even so, I care more than you think. I can’t just ignore what I feel—and I try my best to help the people who matter to me.”
I didn’t want to, but I had to push her away—at least for today.
“Here’s some free advice,” I said flatly. “If you really know what these days are about, it’s best you stay far away from me whenever your calendar hits those dates.”
I didn’t give her a chance to say anything else. I just walked out of the mansion.
At the prison, I found myself face to face with that man—business as usual.
“How’s your shitty life going?” I asked.
“How long are you gonna keep doing this to me, man? For God’s sake…” He lowered his head; pity would be nice, but all I felt was anger.
“Invoking God now? If there’s a heaven and a hell, rest assured you’ll be in the worst corner of it.”
“And you? Tell me!” His voice shot up, as always.
“I don’t plan on going to heaven, and I’m not even sure I believe in it,” I said bluntly—because that was the truth.
“Man… you don’t have to be like this. I’m paying for everything, and you keep rubbing it in—please, stop.”
“What’s your routine like?” I ignored his pleas.
“Cut it out!”
“Aren’t you going to answer?”
“Why would I? You already know what it is—you’re the one controlling my life!”
He wasn’t wrong. Even behind bars, the person who basically runs his days is me. Am I proud of that? Not at all. But when it comes to that piece of shit, I’m driven by anger—and it isn’t going to change. If anything, it’ll get worse.
“I’m waiting. Come on—tell me everything you do from morning to night. In detail.”
He bowed his head again and shook it in refusal. I can be merciless when I want to be.
“I get up at five. I don’t have breakfast; my first meal is after one in the afternoon.
I’m isolated from the other inmates. I don’t exercise.
My yard time is short, and I get a second meal in the afternoon.
My cell’s searched every day—the guards make a point of turning it upside down.
If they think I glance at one of them wrong, they beat me like a dog; I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve ended up in the infirmary.
I have dinner around eight, and that’s my last meal. ”
“Sounds like your life’s going a little too well. There are ways to make it worse.”
“You’re a monster, man!”
I stood up and punched the glass between us, my hand throbbing from the impact.
“Your mistake was messing with the wrong family. Your life’s going to get worse—mark my words.”
I left the prison. I had nothing more to do there today.