The Prison Project (by Bethany Donaghy) novel Chapter 209

Margot’s POV

The walk back to the cell felt quieter this time.

Not awkward.

Not tense.

Just… calm.

Coban’s hand stayed wrapped around mine the entire way, his thumb brushing slow, absent patterns against my skin like he needed the constant contact just as much as I did.

We didn’t talk much.

Didn’t need to.

Everything that mattered had already been said… or at least started.

And for now?

That was enough.

The door buzzed open, and we stepped inside together.

Home.

If I could even call it that.

The second the door shut behind us, the atmosphere shifted again – but not in a bad way like it used to before it just got smaller…

More intimate.

More close.

“I’m going to go shower,” Coban muttered, already dragging his shirt up and over his sweaty hair. “Then we can go eat?” He suggests.

I nodded lightly. “Okay.”

“Don’t leave!” He reiterated, that seeming to be his favourite line now, before he didn’t hesitate, disappearing into the bathroom, the door shutting behind him a second later.

And just like that….

I was alone.

For what felt like the first time today.

Fully alone.

I stood there for a moment, letting the silence settle around me before I exhaled slowly, hearing the shower switch on, the running water hitting the tray….

Then, I looked around.

I mean, really looked for the first time since being back here…

And… wow!

We’d been living in total chaos without acknowledging it.

Clothes half thrown over the floor and chair.

The bed a complete, unmade mess.

Papers everywhere.

Random items scattered across every available surface.

It wasn’t disgusting…

But it definitely wasn’t a peaceful space to be in either.

And right now?

I needed peaceful.

So-

I moved.

Slowly at first, mindful of my ribs as I began picking things up, folding what I could, stacking things neatly where they belonged.

Each small task grounding me more than I expected.

Something about fixing the space around me made everything in my head feel a little less tangled.

A little more manageable.

The bed was next.

I stripped it back slightly, shaking out the sheets before carefully smoothing them down, fluffing the pillows, pulling the duvet back into place.

It wasn’t perfect.

But it was better.

Cleaner.

Calmer.

“Jesus…” I muttered under my breath, glancing at the pile of clothes building up in the corner. “We seriously need to do some laundry…”

That was… a problem for another time though.

I wiped my hands lightly against my thighs before moving toward the drawers, figuring I’d at least try and organise something in there.

But the second I pulled one open-

I froze.

Because there it was.

Still sitting exactly where it had been left.

The money.

A thick wad.

Neatly stacked.

Untouched.

My head spun at the sight of it.

God…

I’d almost forgotten about it being In this room…

Slowly, I reached down, brushing my fingers against the edge of it.

Fifteen thousand.

And more if I’d wanted it…

All of that…

Just to leave.

Just to walk away from him.

From this.

From everything.

My chest tightened as I stared at it.

Because for a moment…

Just a brief, dangerous moment…

I’d let myself once consider it.

What if I had taken it?

What if I’d walked out that door?

Gone back home…

Back to the life I’d come from…

My stomach turned.

No.

No, I couldn’t even picture it.

Back to him.

Back to my father.

The shouting. The control. The fear that lived in every corner of that house, if you could even call it that.

The version of myself that existed there… the small fragile girl… powerless and broken.

I swallowed hard, my fingers curling slightly into the edge of the drawer.

Not now.

Not after everything we’d just worked through.

I wiped quickly under my eyes, turning slightly, trying to brush it off. “I’m fine…”

“Don’t,” he cut in, already moving toward me. “Fresh start or not, you still don’t get away with lying to me, princess!”

His hand caught my wrist gently, turning me fully toward him.

And just like that, there was no hiding it.

His eyes scanned my face.

The redness.

The glassiness.

The way I was trying – and failing to hold it together.

“…what happened?” he asked, quieter now.

“It’s nothing.” I tried again, shaking my head.

“Bella,” he said, firmer this time. “Tell me…”

My chest rose sharply as I inhaled.

But the image was still there.

That house.

That man.

That life I’d almost gone back to-

“I just…” My voice cracked before I could stop it.

Damn it.

I looked away, blinking hard.

“I saw the money again,” I admitted quietly.

His expression shifted.

Not understanding yet.

But listening.

“And it just made me think…” I swallowed. “About what would’ve happened if I’d taken it.”

“And?” he pressed softly.

I shook my head.

A humourless breath leaving me.

“I would’ve had to have gone back home,” I whispered.

His brows pulled together.

“Back to my dad.” The words sat between us.

Ugly.

As Coban went still.

“I would’ve had no choice,” I continued, my voice quieter now, more fragile than I wanted it to be. “I had nowhere else to go, at least until I could find something…”

My throat tightened again.

“He would’ve taken me straight back in… like nothing had changed – only to punish me for leaving in the first place.” The memories crept in.

Uninvited.

Unwanted.

Coban’s expression darkened.

My fingers twisted together unconsciously.

I had almost decided to leave here and go back home… and what a foolish mistake that could’ve been…