by Aella Black
“Too many people. Buildings falling apart. Crimes committed everywhere you look. I know there aren’t a lot of nice options out there nowadays, but St. Louis is definitely bottom of the list.”
I didn’t recall ever visiting St. Louis, but I knew what she was talking about. Kansas City would soon be at the bottom of that list too.
We stretched out on our beds and proceeded to stare at the ceiling.
To my dismay, one thing I’d learned in these past two weeks was that there was no library at this prison. We were just expected to occupy ourselves however we could while in our cells. Rec time was our one and only chance to fight back boredom. It reminded me of elementary school, when they sent us out to recess so we could “get the energy out.”
But at least in elementary school we had books to read. Lucy explained that with all the different powers here, it would be impossible to track what was allowed in the cells and what wasn’t. So “for our safety,” they didn’t allow inmates to bring anything with us into the cells. Not even books.
I shifted my gaze to the clock as the time ticked away. It was nine forty-five. Lights out at ten.
Lucy was breathing evenly, now curled on her side. My mind began to wander, thinking about where Xander would go if—no, when—we got out of here. I couldn’t picture him in Alaska or Oklahoma. The only place I imagined him was back at our old school, playing football and being crowned Prom King. Unfortunately, I couldn’t picture myself there, and I didn’t know what that meant.
If I had a parent around, things might have been different. And Xander had two. Although, come to think of it, both of his parents knew he was here and did nothing about it. Maybe he wouldn’t be eager to slip back into his old life.
Footsteps echoed down the hall. When they stopped directly in front of my cell, I sat up.
My mother stood there, hands clasped behind her back. “Good evening, Phoebe,” she said.
“What do you want?” I snapped.
“Is that any way to talk to your mother?”
My heart jumped into my throat, and my eyes cut to Lucy. She appeared to be sleeping, but I couldn’t tell for sure.
My bare feet barely hit the cold floor, and I was in my mother’s face. “What are you doing? She could have heard that.”
Her lips curled into a smile. “How are you doing? Adapting well?”
Like she cared. Was she really here for small talk? “Oh yeah, it’s been a cake walk,” I whispered.
We were both nearly flush with the prison bars. This was the closest to my mother I’d been since I arrived. Even after all these years, I recognized the scent of her perfume. It smelled like a nauseating combination of nostalgia and abandonment.
“I see you’ve made lots of new friends.”
“Since when were you interested in my friends?” I asked. “You never have been before.” This was true, to my memory. “Can you even name one of my childhood friends?”
“You mean, besides Xander?” She smirked.
My jaw clenched painfully. “Stay away from him.”
She cocked her head. “You have a sharp tongue. You get that from me.”
I clenched my teeth. “Stop.”
“But your soft heart? You get that from your father.”
My throat constricted. She’d said it like having a good heart was a bad thing. “Did you ever love him?” Or me?
“Oh, Phoebe. Enough with the sentiments. Of course I loved your father. I wouldn’t have married him otherwise. But we didn’t exactly see eye-to-eye on some things—”
“And that’s why you left?”
“No. I didn’t want to leave your father.” What about me?
“Then why did you?”
She inhaled slowly and then exhaled even more slowly. As if having a conversation with her daughter took a record-setting amount of patience. “Phoebe, you are part of something big. Life-changing, in fact. I had a large role to play in that.” She pausing, clearing her throat. “It required me to leave you both behind. Anything worth doing comes at a price. You must understand that.”
No, actually I didn’t understand.
I swallowed back the sob that threatened to choke me. I couldn’t cry, not in front of this woman who viewed emotion as weakness.
Despite the way my mother was, which was cold and distant even when she was around, it had torn me to pieces when Dad told me she wouldn’t be coming back.
Dad.
If my mom left for work, then what was his excuse? As far as I knew, he enjoyed his job studying climate change, but I didn’t think he’d leave me because of it.
My mother’s eyes bored into mine like she was trying to make me understand. I frowned. “Do you know where Dad went?”
The lights switched off, and we were plunged into darkness.
Ten o’clock.
“Do you?” I pressed.
“Phoebe,” Mom whispered. “Like me, your father never truly left you.”
Her footsteps retreated. “Wait!” I whisper-shouted. “What do you mean? Where is he?”
When she didn’t respond or return, I collapsed back onto my bed.
I froze when Lucy turned over, and then relaxed slightly when she settled once again.
Why did my mother come here? To torment me? To remind me I wasn’t enough to keep her from her “life-changing” work?
I wished she’d never come. There was no way I could sleep with all these thoughts jumbled inside my head. It would take me all night to sort them out.
Even then, I wouldn’t have any answers.
11
Xander
My fists clenched at my sides so tightly my knuckles had turned white. Who knew it took more strength not to hit someone than to actually hit them?
Woody stood in front of me in the breakfast line, and if I stayed here a minute longer, I was going to do something I’d regret.
Looking back, I spotted Birdie and Rocky in line, watching me nervously. And for good reason.
I abandoned my spot and slipped behind Birdie. “Good morning.”
Birdie tried to smile. I frowned.
We’d only been at Lansing a little over two weeks, and she’d withered away before my eyes. Birdie had always been small, but now her face was pale and gaunt, her eyes dull and lifeless.
This place was slowly killing her.
Rocky, on the other hand, seemed to thrive in difficult situations. She must have been exercising in her cell, because she’d bulked up—more than she already was. Her dark hair was pulled back in a ponytail, accentuating the hard lines of her face, which had a perpetually determined look on it.
“I miss Phoebe,” Birdie said mournfully. “And Cathy.”
I was fairly certain I missed Phoebe as much as Birdie did. Maybe more. Still… “You’ve got me and Rocky. And Cal and Tex.”
“I know. But I miss the girls.”
Rocky snorted but didn’t seem at all offended she was considered one of the guys. “The only way we’re seeing them again is during a fight.”
I shot her a look, then wrapped an arm around Birdie’s shoulder. “They miss you, too. Phoebe told me last time I saw her.”
Birdie looked up at me in surprise. Had I not told her that? Come on, Xander.
“Don’t worry.” Those might have been the most hypocritical words to exit my mouth. Ever. “We’ll get out of this. You’ll see.”
“Stop wasting your breath,” Rocky muttered. “We’re not busting out of here.”
Birdie leveled me with a stare. “How could we leave when we couldn’t even get out of Leavenworth?”
Smart girl. And since I didn’t have a good answer for that, I tried to infuse a little levity in the conversation. “What are you talking about? We’re here, aren’t we?”
Rocky punched me in the arm. I sighed. She was right. Not that Leavenworth was a barrel of laughs, but there was nothing funny about being at Lansing.
At rec, I was doing a puzzle with Birdie, bored out of my skull, when Tex and Cal joined
us. Cal accidentally sat too close to Rocky, who was flipping through a magazine, and she swatted him away. “Let me breathe, will you?”
Cal switched seats to one beside me.
“We just heard the craziest thing,” Tex said as he sat down.
He rubbed his chin, where some serious stubble had sprouted. It reminded me that Tex was older than me. I didn’t know his birthday, and at this point, I didn’t really want to know.
I looked back down and fit another puzzle piece into its place. “Nothing really surprises me anymore.”
“Well, this might. Rumors are flying… about Phoebe.”
My hand froze in mid-air, my gaze darting to Tex. He didn’t look like his usual happy-go-lucky self. Even Cal, who wasn’t fazed by much, looked wary.
“What rumors?” I asked.
“It’s the craziest sh— stuff I’ve ever heard,” Cal said, casting a look in Birdie’s direction.
“Spit it out,” Rocky said impatiently.
Tex took a deep breath. “People are saying that the warden…that she’s… Phoebe’s mom.”
My stomach dropped to the floor. Several beats of silence passed before Birdie spoke. “Cathy would have told us if that were true… right?” She looked to Tex for answers that only I knew the answer to.
Tex shrugged. “Unless Phoebe hasn’t told anyone. Not even Cathy.”
Rocky’s usual scowl had disappeared, replaced with genuine confusion. “That can’t be right…”
All eyes turned to me. “Is it true, Xander?” Cal asked.
I hadn’t been prepared for this. What could I say?
“Actually, yes, The Witch is Phoebe’s mother, and I knew the whole time but never told you guys.”
I hadn’t lied, but, as my father always said, a lie by omission was still a lie. And as a politician, he would know.
My silence was as good an answer as any, and the expressions on my friends’ faces turned from doubt and disbelief to betrayal.
“Dude,” Cal said. “You knew this whole time?”
“And you didn’t say anything?” The anger in Rocky’s voice was unmistakable.
“The warden… is Phoebe’s mom?” Birdie’s voice was louder and squeakier than normal.
“Guys, calm down,” I said quickly, my eyes shifting to the inmates nearby. No one seemed interested in our conversation, but I couldn’t be too careful.
I lowered my voice so our little group had to lean in to hear me. “Do you understand how dangerous it is for Phoebe right now?”
Rocky frowned. “But—”
“If you found out your mom was the warden, would you parade around and brag about it? Do you think that would score you any points here?”
“Wait.” Tex held up one big, meaty hand. “She didn’t know? How could she not know something like that?”
It was a fair question. I hoped the answer would help them understand.
“I knew Phoebe from before, remember?” I looked around, saw a few nods, and continued. “Her mom left their family years ago. Phoebe and her father moved away, so I didn’t realize her mother had no contact with them after that. I mean, none. It wasn’t until she got here that Phoebe realized her mom had been here all that time.” I paused, still feeling the need to defend her. “Believe me, she’s still getting used to the idea too.”
It took a moment for the group to absorb this new information. Birdie was the first to speak. “Poor Phoebe.”
“And I thought my mom was bad,” Rocky muttered.
“I know it sounds crazy, but it’s true.” I raked a hand through my hair. “I don’t know how the information leaked, but this can’t be good.”
Tex and Cal exchanged glances. “Oh, it gets worse,” Tex said, avoiding my gaze.
I gripped a puzzle piece until the edge cut into my palm. “How?” I prompted.
“They know about her power, dude,” Cal said.
A curse slipped past my lips. I knew Phoebe’s power would become common knowledge eventually, but from what I’d heard, she hadn’t lost any matches yet. How did people find out?
Phoebe was trusting the wrong people. It was the only explanation.
Dane and his Hollywood smile came to mind. The puzzle piece fragmented beneath my fingers.
“She will be okay,” Rocky said gruffly. “She knows how to fight.”
Tex shook his head. “I still can’t believe that’s her mom. How does a twisted woman like that become a mother?”
Silence settled around the table. I’d wondered that myself. Phoebe had never really discussed her mom. Come to think of it, she didn’t talk much about her dad, either.
“I need some air.” I dropped the broken puzzle piece onto the table and stood.
Outside, the warm sunshine filtered across my face, and I took several deep cleansing breaths. But my moment of peace didn’t last.
Two guys playing catch nearby talked so loudly I couldn’t have missed their conversation if I tried. “Makes sense,” said one who had two more chins than the average person. “That’s why she’s been getting the easy opponents. Mommy’s looking out for her little girl.”
I stiffened.
“She is a little thing, isn’t she?” The smarmy kid with peach fuzz hair tossed out the remark as carelessly as he tossed the ball. If I didn’t want more information, I would have sucker-punched him right then and there. “But I think The Witch hates her as much as the rest of us. She tells Phoenix’s opponents they can kill her.”
I felt like I’d been sucker-punched.
Sure, I’d suspected as much, but to hear it confirmed—by a stranger, no less—didn’t feel good one bit. Then I remembered I hadn’t seen Phoebe since she’d started sparring, so there hadn’t been an opportunity for her to tell me herself.
“Yeah, but she’ll just come back to life,” the big guy said, catching the ball in a worn mitt. “No risk in that. I’ve heard she’s a spy for her mom.”
“Now that I can see.”
Don’t go over there. Don’t go over there—
“Guess that means we can do some serious damage during a match,” Peach Fuzz said. “Looking forward to it.”
His friend smiled so wide his eyes nearly shut. “I’d like to take a crack at her. She can’t die, so why not?”
“All you’d have to do is sit on her, Mack. No powers necessary.”
They both chuckled, and the words shot from my mouth before I could stop them. “Still counts as murder, you idiots.”
Both boys stopped and turned to face me. “Hear that, Nate?” Mack sneered. “The superfreak doesn’t like the thought of people dying. He’s come to the wrong place, huh?”
“Mack, that’s the strong dude. Let’s go.” Nate started walking away, but Mack wasn’t finished.
His funeral.
“You got anything else to say, nosy?”
I stepped forward. “Yeah. Don’t even think about laying a hand on Phoebe. Oh, and lay off the hamburgers while you’re at it.”
Mack’s eyes narrowed. “You calling me fat?”
“Mack. It’s not worth it.” Nate was smarter than he looked.
“If the shoe fits...” Fat-shaming was a new low for me, but at least I wasn’t contemplating murder.
Mack fisted his hands, then spread them out wide. I watched, fascinated, as his razor-sharp fingernails grew to deadly-looking lengths. With a guttural cry, he lunged at me, thrusting his right hand toward my stomach.
I stepped out of the way, but just barely. His weaponized nails grazed my arm, ripping through the jumpsuit. Pain pulsed from the skin where he’d sliced me.
It was the invitation I’d been waiting for.
Pulling my arm back, I punched Mack right in his flabby chest. He went flying backward, knocking into Nate. They ended up in a heap on the ground.
I marched over and put a foot on Mack’s back, pinning him down. He struggled to get up, but with my strength, it was impossible. “If either of you even thinks about killing Phoebe in a match, I will come after yo
u,” I seethed. “Consider this a warning.”
Both boys grunted, and I took that as an affirmative response.
“Stand down!”
I looked up. Four guards now surrounded me, tasers aimed my way. I put up my hands and stepped off Mack.
One of the guards hit me with his taser anyway. It struck me right between the shoulder blades, and I shuddered, my muscles seizing up. Another struck me, and I fell to the ground.
Two large boots entered my line of sight, followed by the repugnant smell of smoke. Saul. “Causing trouble again, Pretty Boy?”
Before I could come up with a sarcastic remark, Saul kicked me in the stomach. I curled up, nausea and pain fighting for dominance.
He circled me like a shark circling its prey, then leaned in close. “Do you think you get special treatment here because Mommy and Daddy say so?”
Crap.
Saul reared back and kicked me again, this time in the face. I felt skin split on my cheekbone, followed by a hot, stinging sensation. The smell of smoke grew stronger as he crouched down in front of me.
Through itchy, watery eyes, I watched Nate help Mack to his feet. They were both visibly thrilled at the way the tables had turned.
I coughed at the outpouring of smoke as Saul spoke again. “You follow the rules like everybody else around here, got it?”
“Noted,” I rasped.
Saul grinned and stood, giving me a final, swift kick in the ribs. I felt one crack. “If you hadn’t noticed, things at Lansing are different. Special. The sooner you realize that, the better off you’ll be.”
He walked away, and the other guards followed. I struggled to my feet, the smoke that had crept down my throat making it even more difficult to breathe.
Mack sneered. “I’m going to rip your girlfriend to shreds.” The visual nearly made me gag.
I wanted to chase them down. Throw Mack like a football across the yard until he bashed his head against the wall.
Instead, I fell into another coughing fit. He and Nate walked away.
Thankfully, it didn’t seem as if they’d heard Saul when he mentioned my parents. That could make things significantly worse for me than they already were. Which brought to mind Phoebe again…
