Tank paused, processing the old man’s words. Silas was a “lifer”—he had been in the system longer than the Warden had been alive. He carried a weight of authority that didn’t need a badge.
“Nobody touches her,” Silas repeated. “We’re going to sit down and wait for morning. Let’s see what the Warden does when his little plan fails.”
Ellie slowly slid down the wall until she was sitting on the floor. She was shaking, the adrenaline finally ebbing away. She looked at the old man with a mix of confusion and gratitude.
He walked over and tossed a thin, scratchy wool blanket toward her. “Wrap up. It gets cold in here around 3:00 AM.”
“Why are you helping me?” she whispered. “Because we’re men, not animals,” Silas said firmly. “Even if the people upstairs forgot the difference.”
The night felt like an eternity. Tank snored loudly on a bunk. Cueball paced like a caged tiger before finally settling down. Silas sat by the door, as still as a statue.
Ellie didn’t sleep a wink. She thought about her mother, about her graduation day, and about how quickly the world could turn upside down. She realized that in the darkest place she’d ever been, she’d found a shred of honor where she least expected it.
At dawn, the heavy tumblers in the lock turned. The door groaned open.
Warden Miller stood there in his crisp uniform, a smug look of expectation on his face. He expected to find a broken woman, or worse. He didn’t realize that the night had changed the power dynamic entirely.
Tank yawned and stretched, acting as if it were just another Tuesday. He stomped his feet on the cold floor, ignoring the Warden. Cueball sat on his bunk, picking at a fingernail.
Silas remained in his spot by the wall, his eyes fixed on Miller. Ellie stood up, wrapped in the wool blanket. Her fingers were trembling, but her gaze was level.
She had learned that fear can be managed. It doesn’t kill you; it just shows you what you’re made of. “Good morning, Warden,” she said, her voice dry but clear.
Miller’s smile faltered. “Everything alright in here, Miller?”
“Never better,” she replied. Silas stood up and walked toward the bars.
“You look disappointed, Arthur,” Silas said, using the Warden’s first name. The Warden stiffened. “Watch your mouth, inmate.”
“Or what? You’ll throw me in a cell with a dangerous guard?” Cueball let out a sharp bark of a laugh. Ellie realized Silas wasn’t just an inmate; he was the Warden’s conscience, and he wasn’t afraid.
“You’re a brave one, Ellie,” Silas said, turning to her. “Most people would have quit the moment they saw the gates. But you stayed.”
“I had a job to do,” she said simply. Silas nodded. “And you did it. You reported the truth. That’s more than most of the guys in blue can say.”
Warden Miller stepped into the cell, trying to regain control. “Enough. Miller, get to my office. Now.”
“Actually, sir,” Ellie said, stepping past him. “I think I’ll go to the Inspector General’s office instead. I have a lot to talk to them about. Not just about Sergeant Vance, but about what happened last night.”
Miller’s face turned a sickly shade of gray. “You have no proof of anything.”
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