Another excerpt from my book, “I Wonder if She Remembers.”

Risa marched along the corridor in a straight line with the other convicts.  They were on their way to breakfast. They went through the cafeteria style line and sat down to eat.

“Pass the sugar,” Risa growled at the other ladies at the end of the table.  In prison, you HAD to show strength, even in the smallest gesture.

Risa grabbed the pink sugar substitute packet.  She tapped it a few times to be sure the sugar substitute went to the bottom of the packet.  She opened it and dumped it into her cup.  Then, as she did every morning, she reached into her pocket and pulled out a picture of herself and her niece, Purity.  She kept the picture on the table in front of her so no one would be able to see it.

But on this particular morning, a new inmate had come to breakfast.  She had seen Risa sitting alone and moved to join her.

“Is that your daughter? She looks like you,” the woman said.

Risa looked up at the woman.  She had been quick to discount other inmates in the past.  She chose not to make that mistake, this time.

“What are you in here for?” Asked Risa.

“I killed the woman who my husband married.  She was hurting my kids.  She ISNT hurting them anymore,” the woman said.

“Sit down,” said Risa.  “No, she isn’t my daughter, she’s my niece. I have breakfast with her every morning.”

The woman pulled a picture out of her pocket. “I do that too. It makes this place a bit more bearable.”

They looked at their pictures.

Then they looked at each other.  And they smiled.