Prison time moved differently. Not slower. Not faster. Just… heavier. Each second weighed down by silence, routine, and the invisible walls closing in from every direction.
Theo sat on the edge of his bunk, elbows resting on his knees, staring blankly at the cracked concrete floor. The distant clang of metal echoed down the corridor, mixing with muffled voices—some shouting, some laughing, others just sighing in resignation. Somewhere in the air, the sharp smell of disinfectant mingled with sweat and a sourness that clung to everything.
Across from him, Jake leaned back against the wall, arms crossed, eyes fixed on the narrow, barred window near the ceiling where a thin sliver of sunlight sliced through, casting long, pale shadows.
"You're thinking too loud again," Jake said, breaking the silence casually.
Theo let out a short exhale through his nose. "Didn't know that was a crime in here."
Jake smirked, a flicker of amusement in his tired eyes. "In this place? Thinking's optional. Overthinking'll get you killed."
Theo glanced at him sideways. "Comforting."
Jake shrugged. "I try."
The two men sat quietly, the weight of the cell pressing down on them. Jake's gaze drifted back to the thin beam of sunlight as he spoke again, quieter this time.
"You get used to it," he said. "Not the place itself. The waiting. The not knowing when it ends."
Theo didn't answer. His mind was miles away, tangled in memories—courtroom benches stained with tension, Isabella's trembling hands clenched tight, Simon's voice calm but strained, and Ash's smug face just before it was shattered.
A sudden sharp voice cut through the fog.
"Theo."
He looked up sharply.
A guard stood by the bars, clipboard in hand. "You've got a visitor."
Jake raised an eyebrow. "Popular."
Theo frowned. "That's new."
The guard said nothing else. He unlocked the heavy door with a harsh clang and gestured toward the visitation room.
Theo stood, running a hand through his hair out of habit. He adjusted the collar of his shirt—an empty gesture here—and started down the corridor, his footsteps echoing in the sterile hallway. A knot of tension twisted in his gut.
Who could it be? Simon? Isabella? His lawyer? He wasn't prepared for what waited for him.
Ash.
Ash stood awkwardly near the small glass partition, holding a plastic bag tightly in his hands. The bruises under his eyes had faded slightly but a dull purple still lingered along his jawline. He looked smaller, less confident, more uncertain than the arrogant bully Theo remembered.
Theo's footsteps slowed as he approached the table. His eyes locked on Ash, and his body tensed.
The guard cleared his throat. "You gonna sit or what?"
Without a word, Theo lowered himself into the chair opposite Ash, picking up the receiver slowly, eyes never leaving Ash's face.
Ash gave a nervous, weak smile and placed the plastic bag on the table, pulling out a small, slightly squished cake.
"Hey, Theo. How're you holding up, man?" Ash said, sliding the cake across the glass.
Theo's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Is that by any chance poisoned?"
Ash laughed nervously. "Of course not, man. Just figured you deserved something sweet. You know, a peace offering."
Theo crossed his arms, his voice dripping with dry sarcasm. "Why are you here, Ash? This better not be some trap."
Ash sighed, looking down at his hands for a moment before meeting Theo's steely gaze.
"Look, there's something I need to talk to you about."
Theo raised an eyebrow, waiting.
"I heard Lincoln's in town," Ash said cautiously, voice low.
Theo's brow furrowed in confusion. "Lincoln? Who's that?"
Ash's face hardened. "Isabella's brother. I forgot you didn't know him. Look... all I want is for you not to tell him that I'm the reason she got kicked out."
Theo's expression darkened. His jaw clenched tightly.
"Those videos. The photos—they destroyed her life. That's on you," he said sharply.
Ash swallowed hard, eyes flickering with guilt. "I didn't think it would go this far."
Theo's voice dropped, losing some of its usual sarcasm. It was colder now—full of quiet rage.
"Do you ever think before you act?" he asked, voice low and cutting.
Ash flinched, recognizing the tone—the same tone Theo had used the day he punched him.
"I get it, man. I messed up," Ash admitted, voice barely above a whisper.
Theo's eyes burned with a bitter edge. "Just looking at you makes me want to punch through this glass and beat you to a pulp. Again."
Ash nodded, defeated. "Okay, okay. I get it. You hate me. I don't blame you. I would, too. Just… please don't tell Lincoln."
Theo took a slow breath, calming himself. His gaze leveled.
"What if Isabella tells him herself?"
Ash's face paled. The silence that followed was thick with tension. Neither man looked away.
Theo's mind raced. The threat was real—not just for Ash, but for everyone tangled in this mess.
"Actions have consequences," Theo said quietly, almost to himself.
Ash looked up, eyes wary. "Yeah... I'm starting to understand that."