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assigned last name, and he never had given it to me. The inmate directly to the left of our cell, along with the one just past him, were both male. I had no idea which one was Orrin. He said he was old enough to be my father, which didn’t help slim down the choices. To be honest, I didn’t even care. Orrin was good company to fish with.
    Every time I threw a note his way, I would always start it with a simple question. One that any other inmate would either disregard or try too hard to answer. Orrin’s answers were always obvious. I never doubted it was he who had answered.
    Can’t sleep. Have you met the new GF?
    I tossed the note and waited. It didn’t take long to feel the tug this time.
    I have. He has worked here for some time. Don’t know why he wanted to transfer to the day watch though. Used to be in charge higher up in Spokane.
    I pursed my lips, then scribbled back.
    He wanted to be here? Something must be wrong with him.
    I could hear a low chuckle down the walk. Smiling to myself, I waited for the tug.
    That’s what I heard. Guessing they think the Lifers are more fun to annoy. Since we aren’t going anywhere. Except up.
    I never liked it when Orrin wrote like that. He was convinced that the only way out of floor B, out of Spokane, was death. I had tried a few times in the past to encourage him to file for parole. Orrin always said no, and left it simply at that.
    Orrin, why are you here?
    I paused a moment before tossing the note out the door.
    There was an unspoken rule here. You didn’t ask about the crimes that had locked the people in. Someone could seem like the world’s most decent human being. You would sit there and wonder why they ever found themselves locked away inside this place. Then, when you found out the reason, you would want to smash their skulls in for the atrocities they had committed.
    It was better to know the person that was locked in now, not the person they had been before. I had never even asked my own parents what their crime had been.
    It was a long time before the shoelace tugged again.
    Do you believe that not everyone in here is guilty, Millie?
    I don’t know , I wrote back.
    I was living in a small town. Orrin wrote. Had a beautiful wife and two little boys. Then some bad things started to happen in the town. People were being killed, brutally. There was one man who I had said some nasty stuff about, who later turned up dead. Everyone decided then and there that I was the murderer.
    I had no alibi, so they took me in. And that was the end of it. They stopped looking for the killer, decided it easier to declare that I was him because of some careless things I had said. I was sentenced, and locked away without a second glance. That is why I am here.
    Do you believe me?
    I read the note over again, taking in everything he had carefully written. His handwriting was perfect, curved and clear. Every “i” was dotted. Every single “t” perfectly crossed. Something in the back of my mind told me to not believe him. There had to be a reason why the Nation had sentenced him. They wouldn’t have locked him away if he were innocent. There was always a reason.
    I waited for the butterflies to take me over. For the fog to lick at my vision and dull my thoughts. Nothing happened. As I stared at his writing, I only felt my steady heart beat and heard my even breaths.
    I believed him. I wanted to believe him. For some reason, I needed to.
    Of course I do, Orrin. I wrote.
    Remember that when you are out, Millie. Orrin wrote back. Watch what you say. I never want to see you again.
    A small smile spread on my lips. Carefully, in the clearest handwriting I could muster, I wrote back.
    I never want to see you again either .

4
     
     
    T he lights flashed on. I jerked my hand over my eyes, groaning at the pain of the sudden flood of light. Outside my cell I could hear similar responses as the declaration of day jostled everyone awake.
    Rolling to my side, I looked down over the edge of