The Silence Was a Warning

Tasha came after lights-out.

Not alone this time, but quieter.

That was how Maeve knew the canteen had unsettled her. Public bullies liked noise when the room belonged to them. They liked silence when they were not sure who else was listening.

The cell door opened with a metal cough.

Tasha filled the doorway in a charcoal top, arms bare, red knuckles resting against the frame.

“You made a mistake today.”

Maeve sat on the lower bunk. “You said that already.”

Tasha stepped inside. The officer at the door looked down the corridor.

Maeve recognized him from the canteen. Officer Reeve. The one who had moved half a step and stopped.

Tasha saw the glance and smiled. “He won’t help you.”

“I wasn’t looking for help.”

“No?” Tasha came closer. “Then what were you looking for?”

Maeve lifted her face.

“Pattern.”

The word was small, almost gentle.

Reeve’s eyes flicked toward her.

Tasha’s smile thinned. “You think a complaint saves you?”

Maeve stood. Not quickly. Not threateningly. She only stood, and that was enough to change the size of the cell.

“I think you like rooms where women can’t leave,” she said. “I think you use officers who owe you or fear you. I think you were told I had names. I think lunch was meant to make me drop them.”

Tasha’s hand shot out and caught the front of Maeve’s uniform.

Reeve whispered, “Briggs.”

This time there was fear in his voice.

Maeve did not touch Tasha’s wrist. She looked over Tasha’s shoulder at the officer.

“You heard that,” Maeve said.

Reeve’s jaw worked.

Tasha twisted the orange fabric tighter. “He heard nothing.”

Maeve’s mouth moved almost into a smile.

“No,” she said. “He heard what happens next if he keeps choosing you.”

For three seconds nobody moved.

Then footsteps came fast down the landing.

Officer Patel appeared with two senior staff and a woman in a dark suit who did not wear prison keys. The woman looked at Tasha’s hand gripping Maeve’s uniform. Then she looked at Reeve.

“Open the door fully,” she said.