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Voices plural now.

Those voices were getting heated. Raised.

“He killed her?”

“Yes!” a man replied. “I’m not even sure how he did it. He just reached through the bars and snapped her neck as if he’d done it a hundred times before.”

A man.

Gentry!

“Jesus Christ.”

A man.

My man.

Black.

“The other sheriff was in town to let you know what he found out about your case—a bunch of nothing—and was there to witness it. He said that nothing could’ve been done. Leo just bam, reached out and did it. I’m sorry, man.”

“Does my daughter know?” Black asked.

“She does.” Gentry paused. “I think she was the reason that Leo did it.”

“Fuck, why?”

“She was fighting with Marcia. Like screaming,” Gentry said. “Accusing her of withholding you from her. Leo was watching the show, as we all were, and Marcia made a move too close to Leo’s side of the cell and he just reached through…”

“Is she okay?” Black asked. “Shelby?”

“She went to the hospital with her mother,” he said. “She’s downstairs, actually.”

A tortured sound. “I can’t leave Jess.”

Jess.

Me.

“She’s not alone, man,” Gentry said. “We got her. You stay here where you need to be.”

Silence.

Then…

“You’re safe.”

Black.

“Baby, please wake up,” Black whispered.

I was scared to wake up.

“Black?”

I didn’t know who this person was.

A woman.