distribution. If Harlan’s report went into the system, my parole date would evaporate, and the next time Beth saw me, my beard would be white.
Voss wanted me buried. He figured if he couldn’t break me with food, he would break me with paper.
On the second morning, the slot slid open.
A cup of lukewarm water and a slice of dry bread slid across the shelf. Then Harlan’s face appeared in the rectangular gap.
”Feeling sociable yet, Mercer?” he asked, tapping the iron door with his heavy metal flashlight. “Captain’s signing the disciplinary transfer tomorrow. Maximum security up north. You’ll be sharing a fence with lifers until you’re seventy.”
”You kicked the dog, Harlan,” I said quietly from the floor.
He snorted. “It’s an animal. Just like you.”
”The packaging on those pills,” I continued, keeping my voice level, steady as a plumb line. “Black electrical tape over orange
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