Chapter 11 - My Father's Voice
Leah could not play the audio through the visiting phone. She wrote the final sentence on the paper she held against the glass: NINA, DON'T TRUST THE PERSON WHO OFFERS TO GET YOU OUT.
“Who was he talking about?” I asked.
“We can't tell. The file cuts off after a metal door slams.”
For three months I'd imagined Dad saying he loved me, asking for help, telling me where he was. Instead he was warning me about a rescuer. I hated how much that frightened me.
The following morning, Warden Evelyn Marsh summoned me to her office. She had silver-framed glasses, a polished desk, and photographs of herself shaking hands with state officials.
“Ms. Calder, I hear you're having a difficult adjustment,” she said.
“I hear my cellmate almost had me shipped to a closed clinic.”
“Miscommunications occur.”
“Someone forged a physician's signature.”
Her eyes did not move. “Those are serious accusations.”
“So is my father's disappearance.”
She folded her hands. “I can arrange a transfer to a different facility. Fresh start. Quieter environment. You would be closer to your attorney.”
My pulse jumped. An offer to get me out. Dad's last words pressed against the inside of my skull.
“I'll discuss it with counsel.”
“I'm afraid this is a limited opportunity.”
“Then let it expire.”
For the first time, she looked irritated. “Your father was a good employee who became obsessed with things outside his job. Don't repeat his mistake.”
I leaned forward. “You said he was a good employee. Is that how you talk about people who walked away voluntarily?”
She rose. “This interview is over.”
Outside, Officer Ward escorted me toward my housing unit without speaking. At the last turn he paused where no other guards could see.
“Your father didn't walk out of this place,” he said.
I looked at him. “You saw what happened?”
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“I saw him put into the back of a van. He was breathing when the doors closed.”
Before I could ask another question, Ward whispered, “And I drove it.”
