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if she was ready for our appointment. Elsa was a
short, plump woman in her mid-forties. Her dark hair and olive skin spoke of a foreign
heritage, perhaps Italian or Spanish. She might have been a very attractive
woman in her youth, but as was the case with most of the people here, time had
worn grooves in her face, and she had an edge about her. Friendly, but cautious
and alert, and always ready for trouble.
    She looked up from her desk and gave me a tight
smile, motioning me inside. "Good morning, Braden."
    "Morning, Mrs. Delmonico," I said,
taking a seat across from her. I folded my hands in my lap, resisting the need
to wipe the dampness on my pants.
    She riffled through some of the papers on her
desk. "Your grades are very good, your behavior has been exemplary, and
you show wonderful decision making skills--avoiding undesirable situations and
people quite well."
    My eyebrows knitted together. "Ma'am?"
    She pulled a piece of paper from a folder and read
through it, relaying what was written. "I understand there was an
altercation during P.E. a few days ago?" Her eyes were cold and hard as
she searched my face. "Care to tell me what happened?"
    There were certain unwritten rules in this place. If
you saw something going down, you walked away and never admitted to anything if
questioned later. If you became known as a snitch, others would definitely
target you in retaliation. You were better off just saying you didn't see what
went on or that your head was turned.
    "I didn't really see anything. I was on my
way out when it happened," I lied. I hated lying to her, but it beat the
alternative. Keeping my mouth shut in this instance was definitely the only thing
for me to do. Of course, if she scanned the surveillance tapes, she'd see me
and know I was lying. Worse yet, maybe she already viewed them, in which case I
was totally fucked.
    Her stony expression gave away nothing. I imagined
her to be a kickass poker player. She tucked the papers away and picked up a
pen, rolling it between her fingers. She intimidated me, and I'm pretty sure
that was her intent. I shifted in my seat and rubbed the back of my neck
restlessly.
    "You realize that if you're not completely
honest with me, I do have ways of finding out the truth," she said.
    "Yes, ma'am." She nodded and pushed the
paperwork off to the side. I took a deep, calming breath, and my heart began to
beat again. "So, Braden, what are your plans for when you get out of
here?"
    "My Uncle Jeb has a job waiting for me at his
marina." I wiped my sweaty palms against my pants. She made me more
nervous than a long-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs, and I'm sure
she knew it.
    "What will you be doing at the marina?"
    "Odd jobs, mostly. Some small engine
repair."
    "And you'll have a place to stay?" she
asked.
    "Yes, ma'am. I'll be staying at his place.
He's got a small trailer on the property he's fixed up for me to use."
    She nodded and made some more notes in my file.
"When you arrived at WTJDC, Braden, you were a scared twelve-year-old boy.
You were a follower. You wanted so badly to please people, and you were afraid
of doing something wrong. I've watched you grow into a fine young man during
your stay here."
    "Thank you, ma'am," I said quietly. My
mouth was suddenly too dry and I tugged at the neck of my shirt for more
breathing room.
    "I suspect your improvement has been mainly
due to the fact that you've been separated from your brother." She paused,
tapping her pen on the desk. "I believe it would be in your best interest
if you continued living apart from Brogan. He will be here until he turns
eighteen. What happens to him, what he does after that, is anybody's guess. My
advice to you is to live your own life, don't let him take you back down the
wrong road again. If you think WTJDC is hell, you have no idea. It's a walk in
the park compared to prison."
    "My Uncle Jeb has already made it clear that
he doesn't want Brogan on the property. There's not much he can do to