Dead Secret

Jodie looked away. A few more years while Ethan lived and breathed; while his trail grew cold; while her Abby was still dead. Her jaw clenched.

Dixie swore some more. ‘I know that bull-headed look of yours. You’re not listening to me, are you?’

‘I need a passport. Plus, I’ll need some clothes.’

Dixie huffed out a breath, and stared up at the sky for a long, cold moment. Above them, the clouds had turned lavender-grey, bloated with the threat of forecast blizzards.

‘Shit.’ Dixie shook her head and looked at Jodie. ‘I guess I know a guy.’

‘I heard you’re getting out of here.’

Jodie sat bolt upright. ‘What—’

‘Relax.’ Nate plonked herself down on the next bunk. ‘I overheard Dixie and Momma Ruth talking.’

Jodie swung her legs to the floor, flicked a glance around. They were alone in the cell, waiting for the 6 p.m. count. Outside, the yelling and clatter of trays told her chow was still finishing up.

Jodie shook her head. ‘I’m not going anywhere.’

‘Don’t worry, Dixie thinks I can’t keep my mouth shut either, but I won’t say nothing.’

Nate leaned forward, elbows on her knees, hands clasped together. Her thin face looked pale, the dark brows and eyes made vivid by the harsh buzz cut.

She’d told Jodie she’d first buzzed her hair when she was eight. Did it herself, she’d said. To discourage her father’s attentions and stop him coming into her room at night. She’d deliberately wet the bed most nights for the same reason.

Nate lowered her voice. ‘It’s wicked awesome, man. A second chance, right?’

‘Look, it’s not—’

‘All that stuff Momma Ruth said? About our mistakes being hard-wired, how we don’t have choices? That’s bullshit, right? We have choices, we can change our lives.’ She gestured at Jodie. ‘Look at you, you’re doing it.’

Nate jerked to her feet without waiting for an answer, and started pacing the cramped cell. Jodie watched her boyish frame as she dodged bunks, slammed her fist into lockers, kicked at stray shoes on the floor. The place was roomier now that Magda was in Seg, but it still wasn’t designed for this caged prowling.

‘Come on, Nate, sit down, you’re getting fired up over nothing here.’

Nate fetched up in front of her, her eyes feverish. Behind her, Momma Ruth had stepped quietly into the cell.

Nate dropped back down on the bunk. ‘I can make my own choices too. You could take me with you.’

‘Listen to me. I’m not going anywhere. And even if I was, I couldn’t take anyone with me.’

‘But I’m clean now, I detoxed in the med unit. I can stay clean when I get out, how fucking hard can it be?’ She clutched at Jodie’s arm. ‘We can make different choices any time we like, right?’

Jodie took in the over-bright eyes, the brittle fervour. She looked at Nate’s forearm, at the cuts the girl had made to help her forget, trying to obliterate one pain with another when crack was unavailable.

She patted Nate’s hand. ‘Sure we can. We can change our lives any time we want.’

She glanced at Momma Ruth, who sent her a bleak look, and knew it wasn’t true. Not for Nate, not for herself. Their choices were locked in tight. For Nate, it was crack. For Jodie, it was Ethan. She’d chosen to kill him once before. It wasn’t in her blood to choose differently second time around.

‘I know what you’re going to say,’ Jodie said.

She glared at Momma Ruth, who’d taken a seat on Nate’s bunk after the younger girl had edged over to the door.

Momma Ruth waited, her broad face passive. Jodie had never known anyone with such a capacity for stillness, and right now it bugged the hell out of her. She lifted her chin.

‘Acceptance, am I right? Soldier on, wait for parole, what’s another eight years. Not to mention, I suppose, that escape is just about impossible.’

Momma Ruth shrugged. ‘That last part’s true, at any rate.’

‘But some women get out of here. At least for a couple of days.’

‘Breaking out is tough, especially this time of year. Last woman who tried it died of exposure in the blizzards. Days later, they were still trying to thaw her out.’

Jodie swallowed, and tried to block the image out. ‘But people still try?’

‘Oh sure.’

Momma Ruth folded her arms, her posture tranquil, and seemed content to leave it at that. Jodie leaned forward.

‘How does anyone even make it past the main gates?’

‘I guess mostly it happens while they’re being transported somewhere else. To another prison, usually. They see a chance somewhere along the way and they take it.’

Jodie frowned. Her gaze drifted back to Nate, who was still fidgeting over by the door. Momma Ruth went on.

‘You can’t get far on foot, especially not in the snow. Boston’s only twenty miles away, but it may as well be two hundred.’

Jodie chewed her bottom lip. Outside, the clamouring backdrop surged: yelling, banging, metallic crashes of lockers and doors. Her eyes stared unseeing over at Nate while her mind riffled through an array of scenarios, discarding most. Hovering over one.

Was it possible?

Momma Ruth was eyeing her closely. ‘You think you’ve got a way out of here, don’t you?’

Jodie shook her head. ‘It’s not foolproof.’

‘Nothing is.’

Jodie’s fingers gripped the side of the bunk as she played through the details in her head. If anything went wrong, chances were she’d end up dead. And with Ethan still alive, she was no longer ready for that.

Momma Ruth was still watching her. ‘Dixie reckons you’ve got no money.’

‘I’ll find some.’

She had to. Dixie was right. Without money, she’d never get anywhere. Momma Ruth shifted her weight on the bunk.

‘I got money. You can have it.’

Jodie looked up, startled. ‘I can’t take your money.’