The Inmate

by Freida McFadden

And now I’m here. For the next year of my life.

“I know you’re anxious working in a maximum-security prison, but you have to know that a lot of these men will be grateful for your care. As long as you’re professional, you won’t have any problems.”

“Do not share any personal information.” Her lips set into a straight line. “Do not tell them where you live. Don’t tell them anything about your life. Don’t put up any photos. Do you have children?”

I look like I’m in college, and I feel like I’m fifty. Story of my life.

It’s because of one of the inmates in this prison. Someone I knew a long time ago, who I am not eager to see ever again. But I can’t tell that to Dorothy. I can’t reveal to her that the man who was my very first boyfriend is an inmate at Raker Maximum Security Penitentiary, currently serving life without the possibility of parole. And I’m the one who put him here.

I don’t quite understand how you can love somebody so much, yet so frequently want to throttle them.

And I can think of a few other reasons why he would be scared about starting school after what happened back in Queens.

The school had a no-tolerance bullying policy, but apparently, that was just something they said to sound like they were doing the right thing. Nobody seemed to have any compulsion to do anything to help my son. And it didn’t help that the principal had judgment in his eyes when he noted that the other kids were simply pointing out an unfortunate reality about my situation.

When you are a single mom who is barely keeping it together as it is, it’s hard to deal with a school that pretends nothing is wrong.

The problem with your kid getting older is they know there are some things you can’t promise.

The other problem with your kid getting older is that they can tell when you’re lying.

I’ve always been a good girl—straight A’s, honor society, debate club.

I never saw the face of the man who tried to kill me. The power was out that night and everything was pitch black. But I knew Shane very well. I knew the feel of his body. The smell of him. I knew it was him. It had to be. Because if it wasn’t him, I have made a terrible mistake.

Tracy Gifford is the girl who was found dead over the summer. Obviously, none of us have been on a date with her. But then Tim raises his cup. And he takes a drink.

“I just want to be clear that my life is kind of complicated right now, and I’m not looking for… you know, anything. Except friendship.”

“Shane Nelson is a bully, and he’s a piece of shit. He only regrets that you found out about it because he wants to sleep with you.”

Tim hates Shane. He thinks I should break up with him. But what he’s accusing Shane of is a step beyond that. He’s accusing my boyfriend of murder.