The Prison Bully Demanded the New Girl’s Blanket—She Refused and Said, “You Have 11 Seconds.” Then the Security Camera Turned!

I read the message until I could close my eyes and still see the letters. The handwriting was cramped and slanted right. Not Jo's. Underneath, almost rubbed away, somebody had drawn a square with a blue line across its top.

At morning count, I asked the guard for medical attention. My wrist had swollen from Dee's grip. The request wasn't a lie; it just wasn't the reason I wanted the infirmary corridor.

Nurse Helen Price examined me without meeting my eyes. "Soft-tissue injury. Ice if they can find any."

"Did you work here when Mina Torres died?"

Her hands stopped. "Who told you that name?"

"The blanket did."

Helen shut the supply cabinet. "You should forget her."

"Did she have her inhaler?"

Helen's face changed in a way no answer could hide. "I filed an incident report. I have a copy. That's all I'm saying."

Outside her office stood a blue steel door labeled B-17, LAUNDRY STORAGE.

On my way back, Pike caught me looking at it.

"Your transfer hearing is tomorrow," he said. "You can be on a bus before sunrise if you agree that Knox assaulted you without anyone ordering her to."

"And the memory card?"

"Doesn't exist."

"You showed it to two witnesses."

He leaned close. "Witnesses forget things, Mercer. Especially when they have families."

I swallowed the anger. "Then I'll tell the hearing officer everything."

He chuckled. "You'll have a chance."

Before dinner Officer Ortiz opened my food slot and pushed in a single folded napkin. Under a smear of ketchup, one sentence was written in blue ink.