Page 89 of The Right to Remain

The proposal seemed agreeable. Elliott didn’t acknowledge it, but he listened.

“First, let’s be clear about where you stand in my book. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out that the so-called anonymous tip that got me arrested didn’t come from a stranger. I know it was you. Bitch.”

Elliott didn’t deny it.

“Lucky for you, I didn’t come here to kick your ass. Fact is, I didn’t even ask for a transfer.”

That seemed hard to believe, but Elliott let her keep talking.

“I go back to my cell at Lowell next week,” said Serena. “The only reason I’m here is because that lady prosecutor needs me in Miami. What’s her name?”

Clearly, she meant Julianna Weller. Elliott didn’t fill in the blank, though Serena had definitely piqued her interest.

“You look bored,” Serena said, rising. “I was gonna tell you what this is all about, but if you ain’t talking, I’m done here.”

She picked up her tray and started away from the table. A part of Elliott was telling him to let the witch go, but his curiosity took over.

“Sit,” said Elliott.

Serena stopped, her eyes widening. “What’s that? Did you say something?”

With a jerk of his head, Elliott pointed at the empty chair. “Tell me what you came here to say.”

Serena placed her tray on the table and retook her seat. “The prosecution is making me testify against you,” she said in a serious voice. “That’s why they brought me down here.”

Elliott felt a chill. “What do you want me to do about that?”

“I want you to put a stop to this nonsense.”

“What nonsense?”

“Stop being so thickheaded. Haven’t you put me through enough?”

Elliott could scarcely believe his ears. “Haven’tIputyouthrough enough?”

“Oh, don’t sit there and act like you were the perfect child. Though I have to admit, I did like you better as a teenage slut than this—this, whatever it is you are now.”

“You mean happy?”

Serena glanced at the next table. Six women with gang tattoos were enjoying ice cream sandwiches from the canteen, which they’d undoubtedly charged to the account of their latest mark.

“You call this happiness?” said Serena. “Who do you think you’re fooling with all these hormones and operations?”

“Who were you trying to fool when you sold our car to buy a perfect pair of tits?”

“A boob job is not even remotely the same thing. And stop trying to change the subject. This isn’t about me.”

“It’s entirely about you! Why are you here? What does the prosecutor think you can tell them?”

Serena sipped from her cup of water, then resumed her “I’ve got a secret” posture, leaning on her forearms. “I’m going to tell them what I know,” she said in a low, threatening tone. “EverythingI know.”

“You’ve been in prison. What could you possibly know that is of any value to the prosecution?”

“More than you can imagine.”

Elliott glared, but Serena didn’t flinch. “Am I supposed to be worried?” he asked.

“Worried enough to make this stop.”