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Her words are cut off by the guard calling for the visitors of McCoy. I place my hand on Ryder’s shoulders while Roxy grips Jenni’s hand. When we enter the large open room with the round metal tables, I see my father. His gaze lands on us, and the emotions flood his face.

“Hi, I’m Jenni Hoyt.” When she reaches her hand out to shake my father’s, he pulls her into a hug, but as soon as his arms wrap around her, the guards are yelling his name to step back. Roxy visibly flinches which pisses me off. She’s a fucking kid for Christ’s sake, and she’s scared shitless being here.

Ignoring the guards, my father crouches down to meet Roxy’s eyes. “And who do you have here?”

“I’m Roxy, Papa.”

He chokes back a sob. “You’re beautiful, Roxy.”

When he stands up, he squares his shoulders to meet Ryder. “Ryder.” My father says his name, treating him like he’s an adult and giving him the respect that, in my book, he hasn’t earned. I get that his life has been tossed upside down, but his pre-teen defiance and ‘I don’t give a fuck’ attitude is pushing me over the edge. Soon, I’ll need to have a come to Jesus meeting with the kid. But my father knows how to treat people, and he knows that Ryder needs this. He needs to be seen as an equal and not coddled like a child.

“Roger.” The fact that Ryder addresses my father by this name and not the title of grandpa has my father laughing.

“I know you’re your mama’s boy, but if I weren’t aware, I’d say you’re more of your uncle’s than your mother’s.” He pats Ryder on his shoulder, easing the tension. “Come on, let’s walk outside. There are basketball courts where you kids can play.”

We follow my father outside. When I come for my visits, I never pay attention to what’s going on around me. I’m here to see my father, and that’s it. But with the kids here, my eyes are on constant look out. I’m not sure if I want the kids around any of these men.

“There are guards everywhere,” my father tells me.

“What?”

“You’re worried about the kids. Don’t be. There are guards everywhere. The only men who’ll be outside are with their own families. I’d never put the kids in any harm.”

My father pushes the metal doors open. The sun is bright, but the cool air hits me like a hammer. I’m not sure it’s a great idea to have the kids out here. I don’t want to deal with any colds, or runny noses for a week because my father thought it was a grand idea to have them outside.

“Tylan.” My father’s voice pulls me away from my worried thoughts. “They’re fine. They have jackets. They aren’t going to get sick.”

“How the fuck do you do that?” I ask as Jenni giggles beside me.

“I’m a parent. I know the shit that’s going through your head. It’s the same that used to go through my head when you and your sister were little.”

“I’m not a parent,” I tell them.

He shakes his head before he heads over to a wooden bench parked close to the courts. “Keep telling yourself that,” he says over his shoulder.

I stand there and take in the area. Men in tan jumpsuits play various sports with their kids while their wives, girlfriends, and mothers stand by to watch. My father is facing the court where Ryder’s bouncing the ball to Roxy. Jenni sits next to my dad, smiling at the sight of the two kids being kids, even if on a prison playground.

Ryder’s a good brother to Roxy when he thinks no one’s looking. I’ve seen him cut her meat while Jenni and I are still getting things on the table. He’s even helped her brush her teeth a few times. He goes into her room every night to make sure she’s tucked in even though Jenni always does it before him. He likes to take care of her just like I used to like to take care of Betsy…

Coming around the corner of the house, I stop when I see Betsy sitting on the ground, with bare feet. Her knees are drawn up with her arms wrapped around her legs. Her head is buried down, but by the sniffling, I know she’s crying. “Hey,” I say as I kneel in front of her. “Bets, what’s wrong?”

When she looks at me, her face is streaked with tears and dirt. “Th–the kids,” she huffs out. “They made f–fun of the holes in my–my shoes.”

I glance over and see that she’s right. Both shoes have big holes on each shoe where her big toes rest. It’s the simple truth that we can’t afford the necessities of life. Like being able to buy my sister shoes that actually fit.

I hate that my sister has to go through this. “Don’t worry, Bets. We’ll figure it out.”

“How?”

“Just leave it to me,” I tell her as I rub my hand through her hair.

I shake my head, bringing me back to the present. That day was the first time I stole anything. I walked through the parking lot of a local shopping center, trying car handle after car handle. Luckily for me, it only took about six cars before I found one that was opened. When I pulled open the ash tray and saw a fifty-dollar bill, I knew that I’d be able to buy those shoes for Betsy.

“You’ve got a lot of work ahead of you.” My father dips his head towards the kids, and I know he’s talking about Ryder. “There’s a lot of anger in that boy.”

My dad’s right. There is a lot of anger, but there’s more to him than that. “Are you surprised, though? Look at me.”

“I know, son. I know your anger runs deep. For your sister, your mother… For me.”