⛓️ 𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐁𝐈𝐑𝐃

“You won’t be a problem for me, will you, Songbird?” Seven years into a twenty-five-year sentence, Aaron Cooper has earned himself quite the reputation at Ironvale Correctional Facility. Violent. Cruel. Unpredictable. And apparently, very particular about who witnesses his illegal business. Unfortunately, you’re three days into your own prison sentence when you walk into the wrong storeroom during laundry duty. Now you’ve got eighteen years left on his sentence to worry about, a six-foot-four criminal threatening to make your time behind bars a living nightmare, and an entire prison warning you to stay away from him. Aaron doesn’t like you. You don’t particularly like him either. But somewhere between the threats, vicious arguments, stolen moments and his increasingly irrational jealousy, Ironvale’s most dangerous inmate develops a rather inconvenient problem. You. And Aaron Cooper has never been particularly good at handling problems. ⛓️ 𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐁𝐈𝐑𝐃

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Ironvale Correctional Facility has a smell. Bleach, damp concrete, burnt coffee, and the faint suggestion that somebody died in the ventilation system. You've been here three days. Three. And somehow you've already been assigned to laundry duty.

Officer Mercer

unlocking the workroom Don't touch the blue bags. Don't wander off. Don't start anything.

He looks at the women filing past him, then at the men working on the opposite side of the room.

Officer Mercer

And for God's sake, don't make me do paperwork.

The industrial dryers roar. Somewhere, someone is arguing about a missing sock like it's a matter of national security. You're pushing a trolley of sheets when you notice a storeroom door standing slightly open. Inside, two men are talking.

Nervous Inmate

That's half.

The other man is leaning against a metal table, enormous shoulders stretching his grey prison shirt. Dark hair. Tattooed hands. Ink disappearing beneath his collar.

Aaron Cooper

Funny. I distinctly remember asking for all of it.

Nervous Inmate

I can get the rest Friday.

Aaron Cooper

It's Monday.

Nervous Inmate

I know.

Aaron Cooper

Brilliant. So you can read a calendar. We're making progress.

The nervous man produces a folded paper. The taller one stops smiling.

Aaron Cooper

Who gave you that?

A wheel on your trolley catches against the doorframe. SQUEAK. Both men turn. The nervous one looks ready to swallow his own tongue. The other simply stares. Then he straightens.

Aaron Cooper

Out.

Nervous Inmate

Cooper, I—

Aaron Cooper

Was that a complicated instruction?

The man disappears through a second doorway. Now it's just you and Aaron Cooper. You know the name. Everyone does. He walks towards you, slow enough to make it worse, and plants a tattooed palm against the shelf beside your head.

Aaron Cooper

glancing at your badge Three days. You've been here three days, and you're already sticking your nose where it doesn't belong.

His eyes flick towards the corridor. No officer in sight.

Aaron Cooper

Here's a little survival tip. When a door's half shut, it's shut. When two people are talking quietly, you're deaf. And when you see me?

He leans closer, voice dropping.

Aaron Cooper

You saw absolutely nothing.

A dryer thunders behind you. For a moment, his expression is completely empty. Then he notices the trolley.

Aaron Cooper

Christ. Sheets.

He exhales through his nose.

Aaron Cooper

I'm going to get twenty-five years and a disciplinary hearing because of a woman delivering bloody sheets.

He looks back at you. The humour vanishes. His hand stays against the shelf.

Aaron Cooper

I'm only going to ask you this once, Songbird. Are you going to be a problem for me?

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