After thirty minutes, Alyssa falls asleep and I fold the page corner to keep our spot. This has been the best day in the Hole since I arrived. I tuck the book under her mattress and step into the hallway. Sutton slams into me while I walk, deep in thought.
“I’m sorry. I wasn’t paying attention,” he says.
“It’s okay, neither was I.”
“Did she like the book?”
“Very much so. Thank you for everything.”
He tucks his pen into his coat pocket and straightens his glasses. “Good. I’m glad,” he says, his concentration fixed elsewhere.
“Okay, well, I have to meet Cole. It’s almost seven.”
Sutton glances at my face, nods, and rushes away without another word.
Of course Amber’s talking and drooling over Cole.
How does she get out of work all the time?
Her fingernails newly painted, she brushes her hand against his and bats her eyelashes to gather his attention.
“Well, hello there. Seems like you’ve had a cakewalk day,” she says to me.
I scrunch my forehead and retort, “Not as easy of a day as you’ve probably had.”
“I’d watch my mouth if I were you.” She sneers. She places her hands on her hips and raises her over-plucked eyebrows in a challenge. I don’t know what I did to earn her nastiness, but she instantly hated me, even before I ever talked to her.
“That’s enough, you two. Let’s go.” Cole shifts his posture and beckons me to follow him to the staircase.
“See ya,” Amber calls to him.
He swings the door open and it almost smacks me in the face as I pass through behind him. My good feelings about reading to Alyssa are gone as I think about spending another night alone in my dark, damp room.
CHAPTER 7
Prostitutes, three of them, rush into the hospital, screaming about someone who’s hurt. I can’t turn my eyes away from them as the staff tries to herd them back to the front waiting area.
“Stay here,” one nurse tells them, “or you’ll have to leave.”
All three of them lean against the wall, dressed in promiscuous clothing that sticks to their slim figures and wearing chunky high heels. Tears track down one of their faces. She looks familiar. One of the girls from Cole’s party the other night. Her dirty blond hair hangs in tangles, matted against her back from the rain. The heavy, black charcoal lining her brown eyes drips down her cheekbones. Her nervous fingers fiddle with a small handbag. I try to ignore her brand to keep from judging her because I don’t want to treat her the same way I’ve been treated. My hand moves to my neck self-consciously just thinking about it. Looking up, she locks eyes with me and then nods like she remembers who I am.
I quickly nod back and walk upstairs with an overflowing container of ratty, washed blankets. The undependable elevator is stuck on floor three, so I huff my way up to my wing. My breathing comes heavy and labored under the weight, but I welcome the break from reading to Alyssa. I’m not used to reading so much and my eyes hurt. Guards pass, but I duck behind the height of the blankets, angling them in front of my face.
Just keep walking.
Fortunately, the stairs teem with people today. The eighth floor comes as a reprieve and I drop the basket into Alyssa’s room to keep her company while folding it. Her solemn expression lifts and a smile crosses her face like she’s bursting at the seams to tell me something.
“Well?” I ask, waiting.
“What?” She smiles.
“Spit it out.” I flip open the first blanket and begin matching the corners.
She pushes herself up and laughs. “Okay, so I read ahead a little…”
I cock my head sideways, giving her a knowing look. “And?”
“Her brother Lucien, well, he’s against owning slaves, so the family shuns him. BUT, it just complicates things more because the Confederates surround Charleston and…”
“Whoa, slow down! How far ahead did you read?” I drop the blanket to my lap.
She grows quiet and then mumbles, “The whole thing.”
“You read all of it? That’s a three-hundred-some-page book!” My jaw drops.
“Well, I liked it and felt good enough to finish… Hope you’re not mad.” Her hands clutch the book protectively as she pleads with her eyes.
“I’m not mad at all, just surprised. Well, glad actually.” I finish folding the blanket and place it on top of another. “I’m not sure if Sutton has any more—”
“It’s okay. It was really good and I’ll probably read it again, anyway.” She lays back, places the book on her chest with her hands over it, and closes her eyes. “The confusion and the violence remind me a lot of the Hole, except she has family…”
Her soft words cause me to pause and let my thoughts linger. She’s so mature for a thirteen-year-old. I can’t imagine drawing comparisons between a Civil War novel and the Hole at her age, but then again, my childhood aged me too.
Maybe the Hole ages everyone beyond their years.
“Why are you here?” I lower my voice when I ask.
Her eyelids flutter open. “I’m not a bad person, really, I swear. I was only trying to feed my family. They were starving to death and stealing was the only—”
“I never, not even for a minute, thought you were.” I lean closer to her. “How old were you when this happened?”
“Eight,” she says, dropping her eyes. She fiddles with her hands in her lap.
“And what? The guards took you away?”
“They came late the next night, didn’t bother knocking. My family and I were getting ready for bed and they barged in like animals on a rampage. I knew they had come for me, so I went willingly because I couldn’t bear the thought of them hurting my parents because they did nothing wrong. I did.” She looks directly at me, her eyes glistening with the memories.
“I’m so sorry,” I wrap my arms around her.
“It’s okay. Everyone here has a story,” she says as she snuggles in closer. “On the bright side I got to meet you.”
“I guess that’s one way of looking at it.”
“Do you want to know what bothers me the most?” Another tear slides down. “I’m going to die a sinner. This is who I am. And there’s not a thing I can do to change that.” Her hands pull her hair away from her chest, revealing her sickly yellow brand. “They even took my dignity.”
Her words stump me. Dignity—it’s a word I never thought about until arriving at the Hole. It’s an unusual word for such a young girl to use, but when she says it, I know exactly what she means.
A plan begins brewing in my head. “I have to get something.” She looks at me with an anxious expression. “I promised you I’d come back. I’ve never gone back on a promise and I’m sure not going to go back on one now.” It’s true. I don’t. I’ve had so many broken promises in my life I could never do that to anyone.
“I’ll just close my eyes for a little while,” she says, sinking farther into her bed.
I half-walk, half-run down the hallway. My feet barely touch the steps as I glide eight floors down to the main entrance of the hospital. I look around, then casually walk across the lobby, careful to avoid any bodily fluids, and stop directly in front of the prostitutes.
The blonde raises her head, evaluating me with her angry, tearful eyes. “What do you want?” Behind her accusing tone, I sense a vulnerable, weary, and sorrowful individual.
“I need a favor.” I speak slowly and gently so as not to make her more wary of me.
“You’re asking us for a favor?” The other girls narrow their eyes at me with suspicion, but I continue on.
“I need makeup… well, not for me. There’s a young girl—”
She raises her hand to silence me. Then she digs through her small handbag and pulls out a few items. “If I’m going to die in this godforsaken place, I might as well do something decent.” Then she presses the containers into the palm of my hand, willing her eyes to mine. “Hell with the guards and the system. Take this, make your friend happy.”