Page 31 of Range
Bright lights beamed down on the waiting area of the gray-scaled dwelling. It lacked life. It lacked color. It lacked so many essentials for the human experience. My heart tightened as my heels crashed into the tiles beneath me, driving my presence deeper into the building.
Though I had the ability to walk out of the door, Clarke Correctional Center felt like a never-ending maze. Others didn’t have the privilege of exiting. Once they were in, there were a million obstacles necessary to be rewarded freedom. And, more than likely, because of the system’s design, they’d return.
“Here to see?”
My mind drew blanks. I took in a deep breath.
“HERE TO SEE?” The officer emphasized.
My senses returned. So did my thoughts. My body warmed all over.
“Unless you want to be searching for a new position by noon,” I paused, taking a look at the name tag, “Quinta, then I suggest you lower your voice when you’re speaking to me. You’re too pretty of a girl to be jobless. Don’t piss me off this morning.”
“I aske–”
“Quinta,” Lee called out.
Her pretty brown eyes lifted in his direction.
I turned to find his index finger and thumb pressed together as he ran them across his lips.
“You’d be wise to listen,” I advised.
“My apologies,” she breathed out, “Who are you here to see?”
“Josiah,” I revealed, “Josiah Blackwood.”
I was hoping my memory served me correctly. Everything felt like a blur at the moment. Unsure why, I rubbed my right hand against my temple, hoping to shed light on my lack of readiness and slight incoherence. I’d began the morning as confident as any other, but that confidence was dwindling with each passing second.
Focus, baby.
Snap. Snap.
Teddy’s voice attempted to pull me from the fog.
“And you are?”
“His attorney. I have reserved the room designated for client and attorney. I’m fully expecting privacy with my client as we discuss the details of his case. Material is sensitive and will need to be protected. Is the room I requested available?”
The keys of the computer felt Quinta’s frustration. Her beauty was staggering. I’d never encountered her at the facility. It was likely she’d been transferred from another area or had been employed in the last few weeks. Either way, she was a pleasant view in the midst of the bleakness of the facility.
“It is.”
“Thank you.”
I slid my credentials in her direction. Almost immediately, I was given a sticker with my name in bold print, and " attorney " was printed beneath it in even bolder letters.
Bzzzzzt.
The first door opened shortly after buzzing.
Bzzzzzt.
Then a second door opened.
Bzzzzzt.
A third door presented a new door.
