Bury Me(37)

“What kind of clothing hangers do you have in your closet?” Nolan asks, tilting his head to the side as he studies the lock hole.

“Just regular wire ones I guess.”

“Can you grab me one please?” he asks. “I think I might be able to pick this thing.”

Jogging back to the room, I grab a hanger from the pole in my closet and hurry back to Nolan. Taking the hanger from me, I watch as he unbends the curved top of the hanger until it’s pointing straight out. He sticks the end into the keyhole, and after a few minutes of jiggling it around inside, as well as a couple of muttered curses under his breath, I hear a loud click. Nolan stands, tossing the hanger to the side, and turns the handle, pushing the door open.

I smile up at him as I walk by. “A gentleman and a handyman. Very nice.”

He returns my smile, and I quickly look away before I start to like it too much.

My feet suddenly come to a stop in the middle of the room when I see a dark blue hard-side leather suitcase with white trim, lying on its side in the middle of the bed. This time, I don’t even need to concentrate to pull the memory into focus. It slides right into place in my mind like it’s always been there and I move to the bed silently, running my hand over the side of the familiar piece of luggage.

“This will be your room. Dinner is in an hour, so you can hang up your things in the closet while you wait. You will be on time and you will respect the rules while you’re under this roof. You have one chance to prove yourself. Screw it up, and you will regret it.”

Tossing my luggage onto the neatly made bed, I wisely keep my mouth shut as he turns and leaves the room, slamming the door closed behind him.

“Thanks for the lovely welcome, Ike. We’ll see who’s the first to have regrets,” I mutter under my breath before flopping on top of the bed.

I bounce a few times on the mattress while I look around the room. It’s different from what I remember but that’s no surprise. Of course they’d erase every trace of their mistake as soon as it was out of sight.

Shoving my suitcase out of the way, I lie on my back with my hands behind my head and stare up at the ceiling, having no intention of unpacking my things. They’ll find out soon enough that I’m not going to follow their rules.

Closing my eyes, I go over the plan once more in my head. I can’t make any mistakes because it has to be perfect.

“Perfect, perfect, perfect,” I whisper softly.

I smile to myself when I finish chanting their favorite word.

“Enjoy your little perfection while you can, because I’m going get rid of it, once and for all.”

Grabbing the handle of the suitcase, I pull it to the edge of the bed and move my hands to either end of it, flipping open the gold snaps holding it closed.

I feel Nolan come up behind me, the front of his body brushing up against my back while he silently looks over my shoulder. The lid of the suitcase creaks as I slowly open it, staring down at the contents with a smile on my face.

“Why did you put all of these clothes in a suitcase in another room and keep the stuffy, boring dresses in your closet?” he asks in confusion.

Glancing down at myself and the one pair of jean shorts I hacked off, paired with one of the “stuffy” dresses I turned into a crop top by cutting it off from the waist down, I smile as I look back inside the suitcase.

I hated those dresses, but I put them on every day because I was told they were what I loved and what I always wore. I forced myself to accept what I was told, even though it didn’t feel right, and I didn’t recognize the girl in the mirror.

“I have no idea,” I finally answer Nolan as I pull every item out of the suitcase.

This time, I don’t really have to lie to him. I remember being in this room, and I knew what would be in this suitcase before I even opened it, but I still don’t remember anything else.

Right now, it doesn’t matter. Pulling out ratty and well-worn jean shorts, miniskirts and tank tops, bell-bottoms and crop tops, I spread them out all over the bed and stare at the items before me. Confidence flares inside me with the knowledge that yet another gut feeling I had that conflicted with what my parents told me turned out to be correct.

“My name is Ravenna Duskin. I’m eighteen years old, I live in a prison, and I can finally dress the way I’m supposed to.”





Chapter 14





Pacing back and forth in the hallway while I wait for Nolan to get here, I try to come up with a way to get my father out of his office. I need to get in there and look at the picture my mother mentioned. I’m sure most of what she said to me that night in my room was utter nonsense from a delusional woman, but maybe not all of it. I won’t know for sure until I can get to the picture and see if it makes me remember anything.