The silence in the cell was broken by Albert, who leaned forward on the bunk with an expression of total disbelief.
– Is it true? Albert asked, almost in a whisper.
Michael shifted his gaze from the ceiling and frowned slightly, keeping his tone calm.
– What's true?
– I heard Miller, Albert whispered, moving closer to the bars to make sure no guard in the corridor could hear. – He talked about the card and the guard uniform. You… you're planning to get out of here, aren't you?
Michael studied his cellmate for a moment. Knowing Albert had already heard enough, he decided not to lie.
– Yes, Michael replied, his voice low and steady. – I'm going to get the card and the uniform to pass through the security gates during the shift change. I'm walking out the front door.
Albert blinked a few times, trying to process the boldness of the plan.
– And what are you going to do when you get out? the big man asked, curious.
Michael looked down at his own hands, thoughtful.
– I don't know, he admitted honestly.
About 45 minutes passed in tense silence. The only sound in the pavilion was the distant echo of other inmates talking. Suddenly, a familiar noise of metal wheels clattering against the concrete floor began to approach. Michael and Albert stood up almost at the same time.
– The book cart's coming, Albert said, wiping his hands on his uniform.
Seconds later, the cart stopped right in front of the bars of their cell. Pushing the metal stand was Joyse, a young blonde woman with an elegant posture, who volunteered at the complex's library. She looked at the two with a friendly smile.
– Hello, guys. What do you want to read this week? she asked, straightening a few editions on the shelves.
– I want _The Mystery of the Golden Clock_, Albert said, pointing to a worn cover. – It's a suspense and investigation book. I like to try to guess the ending.
While Albert talked to Joyse, Michael's eyes scanned the shelves until he noticed a dark-covered volume with bright red details, half hidden among the others.
– I want that one, Michael asked, pointing to the book.
Joyse reached out, took the volume, and handed it through the bars to him.
As he examined the cover, Michael saw the title and the author's name: written by "Rebbeca Nozel." It was a work of psychological fiction that followed the mind of a sociopath, containing exactly 321 pages.
– Happy reading, you two, Joyse said before pushing the cart toward the next cell.
Michael and Albert returned to the bunk. Albert opened his suspense novel immediately and began to read, focused on the first pages. Michael, however, set Rebbeca Nozel's volume on his lap and fixed his gaze on the wall, lost in his own thoughts.
His mind started calculating the next steps beyond those walls. He thought at length about what he should do with the people who had set him up and put him in prison. There was also doubt about his purpose: should he keep punishing criminals on his own, like he'd been doing?
For a moment, Michael considered a new possibility: starting to help Michell and her investigation team track down and capture other killers, using his logical ability in a strategic way. It was an alternative that weighed on his mind, but he still wasn't sure if that was the right path.
– I'll figure out what to do, Michael whispered to himself, deciding to leave the answers for the future.
He adjusted his posture on the bunk, opened the book to page one, and began to read, letting the words consume the time while the escape plan continued to move forward behind the scenes.