Alaina's POV
"Stay away from the bars, ma'am." The cold voice of the security guard at the entrance of the cell I was kept in was a harsh reminder of the crime I had committed yesterday.
After a while, the silence wrapped around me like a suffocating blanket, heavy and unyielding. I was lying on a thin cot, staring at the chipped concrete ceiling, counting the cracks in it. I always hated silence. It made everything louder—what ought to be and what shouldn't be, the thoughts I tried to push down, the memories I couldn't forget.
My stepfather's simple voice came on, smooth and slick, trying to talk his way out of what he had done. He took all I had; he took all of my money. All of it.
