The Prison Project (by Bethany Donaghy) novel Chapter 183

Margot’s POV

For a long time… I didn’t move.

I stayed exactly where I had collapsed on the bathroom floor, curled into myself as though Coban would walk back in at any moment to tell me how sorry he was and that he’d fix this…

But of course he never did.

He never would…

My breathing came in shaky bursts.

Every inhale scraped against the tightness holding up in my chest.

The harsh lights above buzzed quietly, the harsh white glow reflecting off the mirrors and sinks, making the whole room feel colder than it already was.

My tears eventually slowed.

Not because I wanted them to.

But because my body was simply too exhausted to keep on crying.

My eyes burned.

My throat hurt.

My back now throbbed where Coban had slammed me into the sinks.

And the echo of his voice still rang in my ears.

The deal is off…

You will leave this project on Saturday…

Empty fucking handed…

I swallowed hard, tasting the salt of my tears still clinging to my lips.

Of course he had meant it.

Coban Santorelli wasn’t the type to throw empty threats around.

If anything, he was the type who followed through on them without hesitation.

Which meant one thing… I had officially pushed him too far.

My hands pressed against the cold tiles as I slowly pushed myself upright. My legs trembled slightly under my weight, but I continued to move.

I felt like I’d been run over.

I glanced toward the door.

Still closed.

Still quiet.

No Cara bursting in to check on me this time either.

No doubt she had been stopped by Leo to give me space? Or maybe Coban was refusing to tell them where he’d taken me altogether?

They probably don’t even know that I’m in here… only a matter of minutes away from them. No one came.

A small, bitter laugh left my throat.

Why did I even come here? Even think I could complete this damn project? I was in way over my head… right from day one.

I wiped the last of the dampness from under my eyes with the sleeve of my hoodie and forced myself to stand fully.

My knees protested immediately but I straightened anyway, because sitting here crying all day wasn’t going to change anything.

Coban had made his decision.

I was leaving this place on Saturday.

I inhaled slowly.

Then exhaled.

Alright.

Fine.

If he didn’t want me near him… didn’t want to see me again… then would stay the hell away from him whenever I could.

Simple.

I would go back to the cell.

Shower.

Read.

Stay quiet.

Stay invisible.

Leo will come for me before lights out, and I’ll repeat it all again tomorrow, easy.

I could keep myself away, even if that meant skipping meals again today – then so be it!

He clearly didn’t care whether I ate or not anymore.

And honestly…

Right now I didn’t care either.

I pushed the bathroom door open slowly and stepped back into the corridor.

The hallway felt oddly quiet, as I eyed the gym doors further down…

I wouldn’t dare to go back in there…

My footsteps echoed against the concrete floor as I began walking toward the direction of the cell block instead.

I kept my head down.

My arms wrapped loosely around myself as I moved.

Every now and then another inmate passed with another girl from the programme, but I avoided eye contact with all of them.

Didn’t speak.

Didn’t linger.

Just walked. One step after the other.

Trying to shove the mess of emotions swirling inside my chest somewhere deep in the back of my mind.

Just get to the cell.

That was the goal.

Just get there on your own without hassle.

I was actually getting close too…

The familiar turn in the corridor only a few yards ahead now…

Just a little further…

Then-

SIRENS!

My head snapped up as the red lights on the walls began to flash in warning!

Buzzers started blaring through the prison at the same time, loud and shrill enough to make my ears ring.

The metallic taste of blood filled my mouth instantly.

“Oh god…” I choked out a cry.

My vision blurred.

Stars flickered behind my eyes.

My stomach lurched violently.

I was crying now.

I knew I was.

But I couldn’t even hear myself over the shouting.

Bodies kept rushing past.

Someone stepped on my hand.

Pain shot through my fingers as they crushed against the floor.

Another body slammed into my back, forcing the air out of my lungs.

It felt like being trapped in a stampede.

Too many people.

Too much movement. Too much chaos.

I tried to push myself up.

Tried to crawl.

But there was nowhere to go.

Every direction was filled with legs and fists and shouting.

My head spun violently.

Blood dripped from the corner of my mouth.

Someone’s boot clipped my shoulder.

Another body nearly tripped over me.

Panic clawed its way into my chest.

I couldn’t breathe.

I couldn’t get up.

I couldn’t move!

My arms came up over my head instinctively.

Shielding.

Protecting my face as best I could.

And all I could do then…

Was curl inward.

And pray.

Pray that I survived whatever the hell this had just turned into…