Burnington Gaol

S I X T E E N | Adeline

The Visitor's Centre, much like the rest of the prison, was heavily divided.

The small building – which in actual fact was more of a room split in two – was located in the heart of the prison, in the middle of the Turning Circle. There were four booths, with wings on either side for privacy, and a column of thin, wiry mesh that stood three inches high, with a sheet of glass sitting on top. I sat at one of them on the hard, round stool and looked through to the other side. A sign stood above the small section where the guards were stationed during meetings. It read:

No Exchanges

No Yelling

No Spitting

Always Restrained

We Are Watching

Above those comforting words was a pair of round, silvery eyes, as if the last line hadn't driven home the message. However, when I looked upon those eyes, I found myself back in the watchtower, watching those brothers escape – watching Frank Dawson look at me as if I were something to be hunted.

I looked down at my hands, laced, clenched in my lap. My anxiety swelled in my gut, pulsing, making hot beads of sweat trickle down my face and soak into my clothes. Frank would be here soon – the ex-hitman, whose brother had died right in front of me – a death I was partly responsible for. My heart beat hard in my chest, made my breaths short and shallow as my eyes darted nervously around the room. I was stupid for coming here – completely, irreversibly stupid – and yet, I did not leave. I barely moved at all. I felt as if I owed it to them.

Ten minutes passed and I glanced up as the door opened. There he was, looking me again with those eyes that could see right through me. The glass between us suddenly felt so brittle, so fragile. I wanted to run. Yet those cold blue eyes met mine with intrigue – a dark curiosity burning within them. They were just as piercing as I remembered, just as intrusive, just as threatening. My muscles tensed under the weight of that stare.

Tony stood behind him, holding him in place, before bringing him over and sitting him in front of me. Frank spoke first.

"Hello, Adeline." He said, voice icy and calculating. My name. He knew my name. "What brings you to my home on this lovely autumn day?"

He was mocking me now, in his own twisted way. I looked down at his red jumpsuit.

"Jimmy sent me," I managed.

"And why on Earth would he do something like that?"

I pulled the letter out from my pocket.

"He said this was for you."

With a trembling hand, I slid the letter under the mesh beneath the glass. Frank looked at my hand, smirked, and snatched it from me, making me jump.

"Well," he said evenly. "Thank you very much."

Tense, and scared out of my mind, I fell silent.

"Is that all?"

"No."

"Then why are you here, Adeline? What do you want from me?"

"Nothing."

"Well, that's good, considering you cost me my freedom. I ought to kill you in your sleep for what you've done."

Tony stepped forward and grabbed Frank by the hair, slamming his face into the table. I jumped, wincing at the blow. Tony held his head there, leering over him.

"Apologise," he barked.

My eyes darted between the two. Frank gave Tony a sideways glance, an annoyed expression on his face.