Chapter 4 - Sunday Service
They released Lucie from segregation on Sunday morning. Mercer had promised to keep her isolated. The surprise worried her.
Valérie watched from the breakfast line, a bruise darkening her jaw. Her followers kept their distance from Lucie, which only made the other women stare harder.
In the chapel, the air smelled of dust and lemon cleaner. A chaplain played three shaky chords on a keyboard. Lucie sat beside June, who had smuggled half a biscuit in her pocket.
"Third pew," June whispered. "Back leg."
Lucie leaned down as if tying a shoe. Scratched into the wood were four dots under a broken circle. Beneath it, almost too faint to read: NOT THE BOX. THE LIST.
Rosa passed behind the pews with a cart of water cups. She left one near Lucie. A folded strip of paper was tucked under its rim.
Denise Bell. June 12. Transport order signed M.M. Ask for the ledger.
"M.M. is Mercer," Lucie murmured.
"There are other Ms in this world," Rosa said softly. "Don't decide until you see the signature."
A scream cut across the hymn. Near the side door, an inmate dropped to her knees. Valérie stood over her, holding the woman's canteen.
"I said you owed me," Valérie announced.
Lucie started forward, but Rosa caught her sleeve. "She's making you look."
Valérie met Lucie's eyes. In one swift movement she tipped the canteen, spilling water over the floor. The inmate snatched it and ran. Everyone watched the commotion; nobody watched Valérie slide a brass key beneath the third pew.
Lucie picked it up during the closing prayer. Stamped on its handle were two characters: P17.
May you like
As the women filed out, a hand clamped onto her shoulder.
"That key belongs to the state," Mercer said quietly. "And tonight I'm searching every inch of your cell."
