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And every face, whether prisoner or guard, reflected an acute awareness, along with a commitment to fight to the death if conflict broke out. It was a place where most people were one uninvited glance away from a meltdown, and the need for hyperawareness took a toll on guards and prisoners alike.
Fisher had taught psychology on the outside, further proof people went into certain fields in order to try to figure out their own psychoses.
He could deny it all he wanted, but something was driving him. She got the sense he had a little more skin in the game than he was acknowledging.
That was his walk. She was doing his walk and didn’t even know it.
She didn’t want her buzz killed by the news. She wanted puppies and kitties and birds. Maybe an occasional llama.
On one of their magical mornings together, her grandmother told her that men were behind all the problems in the world,
And what do men think with?” “The worm between their legs.”
Know the victim, know the killer.
Abuse came wrapped in different packages, and indifference to a partner’s pain was one of them.
She’d recently told Daniel that kids got things wrong all the time. Had she heard the stories of what had happened so often that she’d placed herself right in the middle of the crimes? No, Gabby had seen her there. She’d saved Gabby’s life. How easy it was to slide into self-doubt. Self-doubt was the thing she found the most cruel and pervasive.
“Let’s don’t think about him.
The alternative was dying there. Perfectly acceptable if she didn’t have important things to do, like
“They have pot in them. It might help.” So California.
Reni looked over at Daniel. He was lying on his back, eyes closed, gun in his hand, a spent shell casing beside him. “Not dead,” he whispered faintly. From the car speakers, a chorus soared.
The big question: Would Reni be okay?