New facility
Steve was sitting in his office, paging through the file in his hands, when a knock sounded at his door.
“Come in,” he called out.
His colleague, Ethan, stepped inside. “Hey boss, they brought her in a couple of minutes ago. I knew you wanted to know straight away. She’s in the infirmary, and I have to warn you, she’s not in good shape. They beat her up again right before the transfer.”
Steve ran a hand over the dark stubble on his jaw, a low growl escaping under his breath. “Thanks for letting me know, Ethan.”
Steve stood up and grabbed his files, his broad-shouldered frame towering over Ethan by a few inches as he cleared the doorway.
When he reached the infirmary, the nurse was still with her, stitching her hand. Steve had seen a lot of things during his fifteen-year career, but the sight of a battered woman in a hospital bed always got to him. He adjusted his posture, keeping his expression calm as his blue eyes took in the damage.
“What happened to her hand?” he asked the nurse, his voice low.
“Someone cut her with a knife,” she replied without looking up. “She needed seven stitches. We’re sending her for a full body scan soon to check for internal bleeding. You can talk to her in an hour. We’re keeping her here for twenty-four hours for monitoring, but after that, she’s all yours.”
Steve looked at the woman again, nodded to the nurse, and left. Back in his office, he pulled her file once more.
“Three months in jail for murder and they’ve already almost killed you. Why do I have a feeling this doesn’t fit your character?” Steve mumbled to himself, reading the report for the tenth time. An idea struck him, and he buzzed Ethan.
“Yes, boss. What can I do for you?”
“Can you get me the surveillance footage from her previous facility? I want to know exactly what I’m dealing with.”
“Yeah, no problem. I’m sure they caught the last incident on video, too.”
“Thanks.”
For the last five years, Steve had specialized in complicated cases like Lucy Brighton. Lucy had lived a quiet life until the day a friend came to visit and found her covered in blood, standing over the body of her dead fiancé. The court found her guilty, and she ended up in a prison where her cellmates targeted her almost daily. To keep her alive, she had been transferred to this high-security facility and assigned to Steve.
He went to see her again after her medical tests were finished. One hand was chained to the bed frame; the other was heavily bandaged. Scratches lined her face, and bruises mottled her skin. Steve stood quietly by her bedside, keeping a respectful distance.
“Lucy Brighton?”
She opened her eyes and looked at him.
“My name is Steven Ruis, and I’ll be your counselor. How do you feel?”
She turned her head away, remaining silent.
“It’s okay if you don’t want to talk,” he said calmly. “It’ll work just fine if you listen. The scans show no internal injuries. You’ll stay here for observation for twenty-four hours, and then you’ll be moved to your own room. And I mean a private room, with your own bathroom. You won’t be allowed anywhere else without an escort, and while you’re here, you’re stuck with me. From what I’ve read, we’ll be seeing a lot of each other. Try to rest; I’ll check on you later.”
Steve returned to his office to find Ethan waiting.
“I have the video you wanted. And I managed to get a clip from the courtroom, too.”
“Did you watch them?”
“Yes.”
Steve looked at him, noting his expression. “What did you see, Ethan?”
Ethan shook his head. “Watch it first. Then we’ll talk.”
Steve sighed and pressed play. As the footage ran, he noted, “She never speaks. To anybody. Ethan, what is it you’re trying to tell me?”
Ethan cleared his throat. “Foremost, she’s grieving, and she needs help. I get that she pissed off those other inmates by being silent, but look at this. When that woman goes to hit her the first time, Lucy almost covers herself—but she stops. It was a reflex, something you do without thinking.”
Steve squinted at the screen, his clinical focus locking onto the movement. “Are you telling me she knows how to fight, but she’s refusing to even protect herself? What is wrong with her?”
Ethan smiled slightly. “That’s up to you to find out. I can already tell you’re interested. But be careful, Steve. She still killed her fiancé. Don’t get too close.”
Steve glared at him. “That’s enough, Ethan. I’m not ‘interested.’ She’s my client for the next few years, so back off.”
Ethan raised his hands in a mock surrender and left.
Steve went back to the infirmary after dinner. He stopped one of the nurses in the hall. “How is she?”
“Not great. She hasn’t eaten in days, and she refused her tray today, too. She’s very weak.”
“Thank you,” Steve said, stepping softly into Lucy’s room.
“Hi there. They told me you aren’t eating. I know prison food is nothing special, but we need to keep you alive. You are safe here. How do you feel for now? Do you need some painkillers?”
She didn’t even look at him this time.
“Okay. Tomorrow morning, we’re having breakfast together. I’m sorry, but for now we’ll need to keep that IV in your hand. I know it isn’t comfortable, but it’s necessary till tomorrow.”
She closed her eyes. Steve watched her steady breathing for a moment. She was stubborn, but he could tell she hated being in the hospital. Nobody liked it.
“Good night, Lucy. I’ll see you in the morning.”
Left alone, Lucy stared at the needle in her vein. She wanted to roll onto her side, but the handcuffs jerked her back. He was strange. She’d expected a counselor, but she hadn’t expected anyone to act like they cared. But whether he cared or not, he wouldn’t believe her. No one did. That was why she had stopped talking. There was no point in speaking when nobody was actually listening.
She tried to sleep, but the pain made it impossible to get comfortable. In the morning, after her final check-up, two guards arrived to transfer her to the residential wing. Steve walked in just as they were reaching for her.
“It’s alright, I’ll take her. And please, take the handcuffs off. She won’t try anything.”
Lucy looked at him in genuine surprise. She almost asked him how he could be so sure. Instead, she opened her mouth, hesitated, and then closed it again.
