Theo made his way back to his cell, the small cake Ash had brought feeling like a strange token in his hand—something sweet amid the bitterness of his current reality. The prison walls seemed to close in a little tighter today. The dull fluorescent lights flickered overhead, casting cold shadows that danced along the cracked concrete floor. Each step echoed quietly, a rhythm of isolation he'd grown accustomed to but never welcomed.
As he approached his bunk, Jake looked up from his spot on the opposite wall, arms crossed and an amused glint in his eye. Theo held up the cake.
"Yo, Jake," he said with a half-smile. "Can you hold this for me? You can eat it while you wait for me to get out."
Jake chuckled softly, shaking his head. "No problem, man. Someone's gotta enjoy the perks."
Theo gave a tired smile and set the cake down carefully on the narrow metal table bolted to the wall. The sweet smell seemed out of place here, surrounded by steel and stone.
Taking a deep breath, he stood and walked toward the guard at the cell block entrance. His voice was steady but carried a subtle urgency.
"Excuse me, sir. Can I get a phone call? Just three minutes. That's all I need."
The guard raised an eyebrow but nodded slowly. "Uh, okay. Make it quick."
Theo felt a brief flicker of gratitude. Three minutes wasn't much, but it could mean everything. He moved toward the small phone booth down the hall, the receiver cold and heavy in his hand as he dialed a number that felt like a lifeline.
The line rang twice before Isabella's voice came through, soft yet unmistakably hers.
"Hello?"
Her voice was a small comfort, but it also reminded him how fragile things had become. His chest tightened as he heard her breathe.
Theo allowed himself a brief smirk, trying to keep his tone light despite the storm brewing in his mind.
"Guess who just visited me."
There was a pause, then her laugh came through the line—soft, a little tired.
"Simon?"
"Wrong," Theo replied, voice low and teasing, though a flicker of something more serious lingered beneath the surface.
"Uh… I don't know. Who?" she asked.
"Ash."
The silence on the other end stretched longer than he liked. Finally, Isabella's voice lowered, tinted with surprise.
"Ash? What? Why? What did he want?"
Theo swallowed hard, feeling the weight of what he was about to say. The name Lincoln now carried a new meaning—a threat that hadn't existed before. His mind flashed back to Ash's visit: the bruised face, the regret, and the warning.
"He said your big brother is in town. Lincoln."
The words hung in the air between them, thick and heavy like a storm cloud waiting to burst.
On the other end, he heard the faintest sound—a clatter, then a sharp intake of breath. Isabella had dropped the phone, frozen in place.
Theo's voice softened, tinged with concern.
"Hello? Hey, you still there?"
The silence stretched, and then a new sound cut through the moment—sharp and authoritative.
"Time's up. Three minutes."
Theo sighed, frustration and helplessness mixing inside him.
"Okay. Talk soon," he said quietly, placing the receiver back on the hook.
He stood for a moment, staring at the blank wall before him. The cake sat untouched on the table, a symbol of kindness caught in a web of chaos. His mind raced, turning over the implications of Lincoln's arrival. Who was this brother? What did he want? And how far was Ash willing to go to keep the truth buried?
Theo's thoughts spiraled. He remembered Isabella's face in court—the strength it took just to sit there. He thought of Simon's quiet support, the small gestures that kept her tethered to some semblance of hope. Now, with Lincoln in town, everything felt more fragile than ever.
He glanced over at Jake, who was watching him with a knowing look.
"You okay?" Jake asked quietly.
Theo nodded, forcing a smile. "Yeah. Just a lot to think about."
Jake shrugged, settling back against the wall. "That's prison for you. Nothing quiets down."
Theo bit back a cynical reply. The truth was, the outside world felt just as noisy and dangerous. The battles weren't behind bars—they were everywhere.
He sat down heavily on the bunk, the weight of his thoughts pressing him into the mattress. He closed his eyes and let the silence wash over him, trying to find a sliver of calm in the storm.
Outside the cell, the distant clamor of footsteps and voices echoed faintly. Somewhere beyond these walls, Isabella was out there—facing threats he couldn't protect her from. He clenched his fists, the ache of helplessness sharp and bitter.
Yet beneath it all, a flicker of resolve sparked.
He would find a way. He had to.
Because if he didn't, if he let Lincoln or anyone else tear her apart, everything they'd fought for—everything they'd hoped for—would be lost.
Theo opened his eyes and looked at the cake again. A simple gesture, but it reminded him of the fragile threads that still connected them all.
Three minutes.
Just three minutes to reach her.
And he would make every second count.