It had been exactly fifty-nine days, according to my homemade calendar on the side of my bunk. Using a pencil eraser, I drew one more line next to the others. The grime on the walls disappeared as a tiny white streak appeared.

Fifty-nine days of prison. Two months without seeing my family, or knowing if Derik and Willi were alive, and for a dangerous rage to form deep in my soul. It was like an infected wound that was poisoning my entire body. Time had only made it worse, and sometimes I feared the pain would kill me. 

I knew it wouldn't be long till we were forced out of bed. The thought of another day here made me want to crawl out of my skin. Soon we would be shuffled to the breakfast hall where I would force stale food into my mouth just to make it through the day. Then I would fantasize about revenge, knowing the chance to act it out would never come.

Just the thought of her made my skin crawl. My fists instinctually clenched at my sides as the anger within threatened to explode. Two months here hadn't dimmed the hate at all, it had only fueled it.

Before red could cloud my vision the morning alarm sounded and signaled it was time to rise. I forced the feelings away with a few deep breaths and stood from my bed. Day fifty-nine and only the rest of my life to go.

I didn't want to accept that this is where I was supposed to end up. There was too much to do, too much I was capable of that would be wasted if kept here. Helping Chapman had been my calling, I knew it was, but prison shouldn't have happened. Something had gone wrong. Somehow fate had messed up. 

Walking down the crowded halls felt so routine even after only two months, but it had become my reality. Women shuffled lazily next to me, most of them still half asleep. I silently envied their ability to escape, knowing I couldn't do the same when I lied down at night.

When I decided to bring my eyes up from the floor I caught a sudden glimpse of an officer. A deep sense of shock and anger heated my body. Silver eyes reminded me of the night two months ago I would kill to relive. It had only been a glance, but it was just enough to resurface the vivid memory that replayed every time my eyes closed. I would never be able to forget the way Melissa had turned on me. The betrayal, the hate, or the dying need to put a bullet between her eyes.

My legs had stopped moving as the officer walked past me and my trek to the cafeteria came to an abrupt halt. Was I going crazy? Why was I suddenly trying to convince myself not to lose it?

I had to keep telling myself it wasn't Melissa. That she was long gone, but this happened often. Either one of the women here would have the same color hair, or one's voice would resemble Melissa's, and forced the anger and the hate to flare up inside of me.

Relax Alexa, I coaxed.

But the crowd of women kept moving. Their shoulders shoved against mine and kept me grounded to reality. What was I doing just standing here? If I caused a disturbance the officers would have no problem handling me. With that I started back towards the cafeteria, the blurred image of the officer's face replaying in my mind.

Every time I saw someone that resembled Melissa there was a pain so foreign yet so familiar that would take over my body. It would possess me like a demon and demand I finish the job I had been too weak to finish two months ago.

I received my breakfast and found a table on the far side of the cafeteria. It was easy to compare the cafeteria to high school because the tables seemed to be separated into cliques. I, of course, hadn't picked one and chose to sit alone, but that didn't mean segregation didn't exist here.

I was studying the bruised orange sitting on my breakfast tray when four other women surrounded the table to interrupt my morning.

"We need this table."

"It's occupied," I retorted.

Two of the women slammed their plates down but I didn't budge. I found it hard to find fear nowadays. 

"I said we need this table," the burly woman insisted.

I could feel the anger beginning to bubble.

I stood to face her. "And I said it's occupied. Find another table."

Just for a moment I saw a hint of fear cross her features but it disappeared just as fast. If there was a visual representation of what hardship looked like, it would be this woman. She was taller and thicker than myself, but that didn't intimidate me.

"You know girl..." she hissed. "I killed a man that told me no."

"I killed five times as many," I confessed. Burning guilt scorched my conscience.

Then her hands were on my collar. The sound of a loud whistle filled my ears. Before I could lay a hand on her I felt my own being secured behind my back. Then an officer guided me away from the scene and out of the cafeteria.

"Inmate!" he shouted.

"I didn't do anything! That bitch was in my face!" I protested.

I knew making a scene would only dig a deeper hole, so I tried to calm down.

I allowed myself to be guided out of the cafeteria, and soon we were alone. But when I turned to face the officer, I was met with a friendly face I had started to believe I would never see again.

"M-Monroe?" my voice shook.

Was he a figment of my imagination?

"It's great to see you too." He smiled. "But we'll talk later."

I shook my head. "What do you-?"

But before any more words could come out he shoved me into a storage closet. I stumbled forward and the door shut behind me.

I turned harshly and heard the door slam. That's when I came face to face with another ghost. Except this one was more familiar since she haunted me in my dreams.

My skin ran cold as I scolded Monroe for his poor judgement on this situation. She shouldn't be here. And all of a sudden, I was drowning.

"Look, we don't have a lot of time-"

My fist connected with her face. Melissa stumbled back against the wall. My hands wrapped around her neck as the rage smothered any sense there was left in my brain.

She was here in the flesh and all I wanted to do was kill her.

She fought and swing her elbow clean across my face which knocked me off her. I fell against the other side of the tiny closet but as soon as I got up Melissa was on guard. She pushed against me, and before I knew it she had detained my arms behind my back. My face was pressed against the cold wall.

"Alexa stop!" she demanded.

But I couldn't stop.

I brought my head back into face. She groaned in pain and granted me just enough room to turn and force her back against the wall. My left arm was across her chest as my other quickly found the gun attached to her hip. I released it from the holster and brought it up to her temple.

But I stopped.

My finger trembled against the trigger while I peered into her terrified eyes. The desire for revenge was strong, but there was something else, something stronger than the hate. It was there but I couldn't force myself to acknowledge it. 

Instead I pushed the barrel harder against her temple. "Give me one reason why I shouldn't kill you."

Her eyelids trembled and her lips parted, but nothing came out. She must not have expected me to react to violently.

"I can't," she whispered.

I felt my finger release the metal trigger but I still couldn't convince myself to drop the gun. I could kill her, strip her of her uniform and try to make my way out of the prison. Granted there would need to be an explanation for Monroe, but nevertheless I was sure I could make it out without her. 

Then her hands came up and grabbed the barrel of the gun. She twisted it out of my hold and forced her knee into my stomach. This caused me to lose my breath. Then she repossessed the gun and aimed it at me.

"I should've just killed you," I panted.

"Yeah, and if you had no one would be saving your ass right now," she responded. "Now stop being dumb and open the box."

For a moment, I was confused. That was until I spotted what she was talking about. There was one box that seemed to stand out amongst the rest. I still wanted to kill her, but I wanted freedom more. Maybe I should comply. For now.

My trembling hands opened the box. A uniform just like hers sat at the bottom, badge and all. I pulled it out and studied it for a second before her demands pulled me back to reality.

"Put it on."

If I hadn't been jacked up on adrenaline I would've hesitated, but I wasted no time stripping.

Once again, I complied and slipped out of everything but my underwear. I pulled on the uniform and tried my best to ignore all the anger I felt. Now wasn't the time for distractions. 

I clipped on the badge. "How the hell do you plan to get me out of here undetected?"

"Our tech just erased you from the system," she stated. "I'm waiting for Monroe's signal."

Melissa took the uniform from me and ripped off the stitched-on identification number. She stuffed it into her pocket as she hid the prison uniform in one of the many boxes in this room.

I glared at her. "Whoever sent you on my rescue mission must want you dead."

"If you really wanted to kill me you would've done it already."

I felt my jaw clench in anger.

I watched her touch the device in her ear. "Yes we're ready. Have you secured the exit post?" She was silent only for a few seconds. "Okay. We're moving out at the signal."

The next few seconds were still before an alarm sounded but this one was unfamiliar to me. An intercom blared through the halls outside the door. Melissa grabbed the handle.

"Get ready," she demanded.

Then she opened the door.

The noise grew louder as we stepped out of the closet. Melissa lead me through the halls as other officers passed us. I was still stuck in the mindset of a prisoner and not an escapee. Naturally I wanted get down on the ground and wait until further instruction, but I knew there would be no stopping now.

"What's going on?" I asked.

"A distraction," she answered. "Keep your head down."

There was too much going on for me not to freak out. Officers were everywhere. If I was caught no telling what would happen.

Then as we rounded a corner close to the front exit we ran into another officer. This time he stopped us in our pursuit to freedom.

"Where are you two going?" he questioned.

I swallowed my fear because I knew these guys could smell it. Keeping calm was key.  

"We received orders to meet in the front sector," Melissa claimed.

His dark eyes looked at me this time but I remained stoic. "Who are you?"

Melissa gave me a look that said "don't say a word".

He eyed me and then tilted his head. My heart beat speed up in my chest. He had to recognize me. I found my hand slowly moving towards Melissa's hip where a gun sat. If he recognized me there was no way we could escape without a fight.

But before I could reach the gun Melissa delivered a harsh blow to the back of his head. It wasn't enough to subdue him, but a swift uppercut from my fist did the job.

He fell to the ground.

"We have to keep moving before someone else comes," Melissa ordered.

We were back in action.

We headed into a section of the jail I hadn't seen since being enrolled here. I could practically feel the freedom.

Melissa shoved the doors open and were outside. The coast was clear. She bolted to the parking lot and I followed her. We stopped at a vehicle and she ordered me to get in. I obliged with no hesitation.

There was a man in the driver's seat who was looking back at us. His eyes resembled Melissa's, along with the hair color. It was almost scary how much he looked like her. This had to be her father.

"Go," she demanded. "Monroe will meet us at the chopper."

The man in the driver's seat took off out of the parking lot as I looked back at the place I was supposed to be spending the rest of my life. I forced my eyes away and remained silent. There were a million questions I wanted to ask, but was unsure if I could handle the answers. The thought of learning the truth scared me. And talking to Melissa only made me angry.

"Alexa," she voiced beside me.

I watched her dad's eyes switch to mine through the mirror. He was the reason this had happened. He was supposed to be dead, yet here he was driving me away from prison. None of this made any sense but I didn't have the control to find clarification.

"Alexa, I need to explain," Melissa pleaded.

"She's talking to you," her dad stated.

"I hear her," I countered.

He scoffed. "She's the reason you're not rotting away in there!"

"She's the reason I ended up there in the first place!" I spit back.

He shook his head. "You don't know the half of it."

"Where are we going?" I forced.

"Back to Los Angeles," Melissa answered while looking out the window.

If she expected me to feel bad for treating her the way I was she would be sorely disappointed. I didn't care. She deserved a lot worse than my cold shoulder considering there was still a deep sense of loathing.

"Don't you wanna hear the truth about what happened?" her dad asked.

It was as if he was surprised Melissa and I weren't happy to see each other. I mean, Melissa could've been happy to see me until I tried to kill her. Who knows?

"I already know." I claimed. "She traded our freedom for yours. There's nothing to discuss."

I understood there was probably a lot more to the story, but bringing myself to ask wasn't going to happen. The anger was overriding my sense of comprehension, and until I could calm down that wouldn't change. Melissa and her father both knew that, so they granted me silence rather than more arguing.

It wasn't long until we pulled into a runway, me already preparing for another chopper ride to Los Angeles. I was grateful this time because I'd rather endure an hour of silence compared to five. The prison was a good distance from home.

We boarded and Monroe's car rolled up as well while he was accompanied the tech. He climbed inside and ordered the pilot off. Next stop, Los Angeles.

Not even ten minutes of silence had passed before Monroe broke it.

"You're awfully quiet," he said.

As I gazed out of the window I realized he was right, but there were too many things going on in my head for a conversation. Not only that, but being in Melissa's presence was killing me. And talking would only make it worse.

"Sorry," I apologized. "Just in shock, I guess."

Unfortunately, my eyes felt the need to look up in that moment, and they locked eyes with Melissa. I didn't give myself enough time to read her expression, but it had burned itself vaguely into my mind. I had expected her to look mad at me, or something other than sorry, but that's all I saw. I decided it was best to shake the image from my head and forced my attention back to the window.

The hour back to Los Angeles was painful, especially in silence. Melissa and her father would talk every once in a while, but I tuned them out. Ever since I had been back stabbed something in me had changed. The future wasn't clear like it used to be, and I wasn't sure what awaited me back in Los Angeles.

We finally landed upon the familiar rooftop of the NIA building. A place I never thought I'd be grateful to see again. There was a heaviness in my heart at the thought.

I exited the chopper and darted for the elevator, leaving the rest of them on the rooftop. It was like my feet were acting without my consent. I was excited for the first time in what felt like forever, but my broken heart was slowly beginning to mend as freedom surrounded me.

I made it to the elevator, pushed the button and impatiently waited for the doors to close. Then to my dismay, Melissa reached it just in time to join me.

"Alexa," she started.

"Fuck you," I announced. "I don't want to see you ever again after today."

"You won't really have a choice..."

I ignored her as the doors opened to Chapman's floor.

"He's no longer on this level," she called out.

I looked back, wondering where the hell he had moved.

"Why?" I questioned.

"He's the executive director now," she confessed. "Fallon retired."

I paced slowly back to the elevator. "So he's like, the big boss?"

She just nodded.

"Wow," was all I could say.

The feeling of progress had grown foreign. Life had continued with my absence and it sucked. I had missed so much in so little time, and thinking about everything I could've missed made me sick.

Melissa pressed a different button on the panel and I watched the doors close.

"Alexa I'm so sorry," she fessed up, but like before I didn't feel anything, "But if you just let me explain-"

I looked at her. Everything stopped as her face grew pale. She had to see the hatred in my eyes and the pain she had caused. This wasn't a small mess up. This had been a major betrayal.

"Go explain to someone who'll believe you," I spat.

The elevator doors opened and I escaped from Melissa.

I hoped Chapman would be willing to see me. I mean, he was the one responsible for my breakout. I just prayed he was also planning on helping my friends.

I opened his door and was met with familiar dark eyes. A gentle smirk accompanied his greeting. There was a silence in my head before he interrupted it with a welcome.

"Looks like your sentence was cut short."

After everything I had done Chapman had come through once again to give me another chance. There was no doubt in my mind that he had perpetrated my breakout, even if Melissa and Monroe had been the ones to do the physical work.

"Chapman," was all I could manage from being choked up with emotion.

"Alexa." He stood from his desk. "It's good to see you."

Suddenly I was torn back to reality when Melissa spoke up. "I'm gonna go."

I watched her exit. When she was gone I was able to breathe again. The pain dissolved.

"Lemme guess," he started. "The marks on you and Melissa aren't from resistance in the prison."

I knew he was referring to the bruise that was now probably forming on my face, courtesy of Melissa's elbow. Granted I had started the fight, but if he honestly thought sending her on my rescue mission was a good decision he was in bad shape as executive.

But I couldn't find the words to respond.

"You're quiet," he admitted. "Which means I'm probably right. Although, I figured you'd be interrogating me with questions by now."

"When can we go get Willi and Derik?" I asked.

I knew it was time to step up and let my voice be heard. In prison, I had been conditioned into silence, but that wasn't my life anymore.

He shook his head. "You've been locked up for two months without any explanation... and you're first demand is for your friends."

He was stating something I already knew. Was he surprised? From day one I had made choices based on the good of my family. My real family. The people who I loved. He probably expected me to be a little selfish on my first hour of freedom but there was no enjoying it when Derik and Willi were still suffering. Being locked up gave me plenty of time to reevaluate my life, including the hate I once had for my friends that had lied to me for so long.

"We have a team prepared for tonight," Chapman claimed.

"Great. What do I have to do?" I asked.

"Nothing." He shook his head. "You're not going."

I furrowed my brow. "Of course I'm going."

"No," he refused. "We just got you out, I'm not letting you step foot in another prison. If we get Derik and Willi out without any detection, then you're good to go. But if the GIB finds out you and your friends are about to be free, then things will get bad."

I was shocked because if anyone should be on the rescue mission it should be me, but that wasn't happening.

I remained silent and allowed the information to process. My heart grew heavy again. Was I really free? Or was I just back to where I had started?

"Alexa..." Chapman grabbed my attention. "You're not a prisoner anymore. But I'm doing this because it's what's best for you. You have to learn to look out for yourself."

I tried my best to believe what he was saying. After all, he was the executive director. But it was instinct. My brain was hardwired to do what I had to do to protect the ones I cared about. It was something that had developed at a very young age. Changing that would never happen.

"Is Melissa going?" I found myself asking.

"No."

"Then why was she allowed to come get me?"

Chapman's eyes fell as he took a deep breath. "She wouldn't take no for an answer. Her determination and persistence... I knew she wouldn't come back without you. Eventually it felt like the right choice."

This should've made a difference. It should've made me grateful, but it didn't. The pain of her betrayal was still too fresh and my wounds convinced me that they would never fade. I was still stuck on why Chapman had even allowed Melissa to come back considering what she had done in the first place. All of this had been her fault to begin win.

I grew angry. "She was working against us, Chapman. She's the reason we almost got caught the first time at the GIB. She was the snitch, and you let her come back and stick her nose where it doesn't belong?"

My rage grew rapidly, but Chapman remained calm. How could he sit there and not agree with me when I was stating pure facts? What had gone down within the two months I had been gone?

"Do you want to dwell on the past or do you want to prepare for the future?"

His response almost sounded like a taunt. It only caused me to grow angrier. After everything my team went through for him, to gain our own freedom from our past mistakes, he was going to play that card? How could I not dwell on the past? I had been locked up for two months! I had been ripped away from the world all because of her!

I stood. "How can I not, Chapman?! I went to prison! Two months wasted, down the drain without seeing my family. They still have no idea I'm here! She almost ruined my life and you're telling me I shouldn't be upset?"

He remained impassive, as if everything I was saying didn't make a difference. Sure, he knew this already, but was he conditioned not to care anymore? The silence he was giving me only caused me rethink my approach.

Maybe he wanted me to show some professionalism. Maybe he wanted to see if I could think with my head rather than my heart. That would make more sense.

Taking a deep breath, I tried to calm down. My heart beat began to settle down. Melissa wasn't the problem right now. The problem was that my friends were still locked up. What I needed was to find out what had exactly happened that night. Of course, Melissa had tried to tell me, but being around her only made me too angry to focus.  

"What happened the night? When Melissa turned us in?" I asked.

Chapman finally reacted. "After that night when I didn't hear from you or your friends I grew worried. At the time, I was still the assistant director. Fallon hadn't retired yet, and after the whole case crossover thing with your dad I had been lying low, so I waited. Melissa showed up a few days after your last job. She told me everything. How she had been working for the GIB from the start, about her father and how they had threatened to end her dad's life if she didn't comply. Has she not talked to you about this?" 

"She tried..." I confessed. "But I can't trust her word."

He sighed and continued. "Apparently her dad had been imprisoned overseas after going against orders and discovering something extremely confidential. They could've killed him but instead they faked his death and forced him to work. They knew he had lived in Los Angeles. And when the GIB knew Victoria was located here they found Melissa and threatened to really end her dad's life if she didn't help."

"And how was she expected to find Victoria? Ask door to door?" I asked cynically.

Chapman continued. "They knew Victoria was helping a group of criminals, or in other words, you and your friends. When Melissa and Willi reconnected at the gun shop was when it started. She must've heard the name Victoria at some point to stick around."

I immediately recalled the memory of Willi introducing me to Melissa. The gun heist had been the starting point? All that time she had known we were affiliated with Victoria before we even stepped foot in the GIB headquarters.

"You should talk to her," Chapman advised. "It would clear things up for you."

"I don't want to," I claimed through clenched teeth.

The bitterness was fresh and would be for a long time. And processing all of this was difficult, especially because it all seemed to make sense now. But it didn't make it hurt any less.

"So after we were arrested, they just let her dad go? As if nothing ever happened?" I asked, still trying to clear things up.

It was hard to believe it had been that simple if Melissa's father had discovered their big bad secret.

"They threatened him into silence. Told him if came back after them they would kill not only him, but the rest of his family."

I sucked in a tight breath. I felt pain in my heart for the man. His light eyes had held even more darkness than Melissa's, and now I understood why. No telling what he had gone through over the five years he was locked up. Even when I understood Melissa's motives I was still angry with her, but I felt pity for her dad. Being locked up for two months had been hell, I couldn't begin to fathom the thought of five years.

"He's supposed to be lying low, yet he helped Melissa get me out of jail...?" I questioned.

Chapman nodded. "Well, Melissa's his daughter, and when she asked for his help he couldn't tell her no."

It seemed as if the conversation had died, but there was a look in Chapman's eyes that told me there was something else. Something bad had happened that night other than me and my friends getting arrested. Just the expression on his face made my skin crawl, but I was terrified to ask.

"There's something else," he started. His eyes fell to the ground.

My heart was pounding. My skin was hot at the anticipation of what was about to fall out of his mouth, but by now I already knew. If Melissa's father was a free man, that could only mean one thing.

"They have Victoria," Chapman revealed.

My heart broke in half. Just the sound of it made the lump in my throat grow four sizes. Tears welled but I forced them away, not wanting to do that here.

"How?" I shook my head.

"A tracking device," he stated. "Melissa told me she had planted one in Derik's car. They followed him to her house, waited until your group struck their headquarters again..."

I felt sick to my stomach at the image of someone manhandling the frail and innocent Victoria out of her house. The fear she must've felt, the betrayal... everything she had built had crumbled. The trust she had for us was gone, only to be replaced with confusion.

"I should've killed her," I confessed aloud.

It was considered a regret, but at the same time I knew I could've, but hadn't.

"You wouldn't have done the same thing?" Chapman asked. 

There was the pain of understanding, something I had learned to do with time. Would I have done the same thing to my friends? I wanted to believe I wouldn't have, not for my father. Right?

"No." I shook my head. "I wouldn't have."

Chapman leaned forward. "If it would've been Anna, you wouldn't have done everything in your power to save her?"

Just the mentioning of my sister's name provoked a deep sense of pain to strangle my heart. The image of her popped into my head with cuffs around her wrists and dried tears on her face made me sick.

Suddenly, placing myself in Melissa's shoes became easy because I would've killed to save my sister. It was a hard decision, but at the end of the day my sister was the one I would do anything for. She was the only one who could erase the morals I tried to live by.

"I think you should rest," Chapman concluded. "By tomorrow morning your friends should be here. Then you'll be able to see your family."

He walked me to the door and opened it. Melissa was gone and had been replaced with none other than my own father. I had expected to be angry, but after thinking myself to death in prison it was hard to react emotionally to anything other than Melissa.

"Dad," I whispered.

It was the first time in over ten years I had called him that. It had almost been like a reflex, and I hated how good it felt. The knife sticking out of my heart twisted, but it was bitter sweet. There was a need to repair all that was broken, and the relationship with my father was a big part. It just felt impossible. At least right now.

He smiled and nodded to Chapman. "I'll show her where she's staying."

We left Chapman's office and I realized being next to the man who was practically a stranger didn't make me feel better. I was trying my best to say something but no words came out.

What could I possibly say to him? After his disappearance, then reappearance, topped off with my arrest that had ripped us apart again, there was a massive hole in our relationship.

The elevator ride was silent too, and I had anticipated he would've started conversation by now. What was he waiting for? I figured he would have a lot to say after ten years.

It wasn't until we were standing in front of a room which I pinned as my suite before I ended up initiating.

"Have you seen mom or Anna?" I asked.

It was something that had been bothering me ever since I had thought about it. It was very hard to believe he hadn't showed up and explained himself to them.

"No," he admitted. "I couldn't do it without talking to you first."

I shook my head. "Why?"

"Because you determine if I get to be a part of this family again," he finished.

I felt my heart clench.

A small part of me was trying to hold on to the hate, but after everything I had gone through I was just so tired. It was enough I hated Melissa to the depths of Hell. Was it worth hating my father on top of that? Along with Derik and Willi?

He started again. "You don't have to answer right now. You have a lot to process."

I watched him open the door to my room and my eyes pulled up and met his. Was it possible to speak without words? I understood why he was saying this, because he knew he had lost the father privileges the day he walked out on us. Had he wanted to? Probably not, but he had been offered a choice. There was always a choice, and he had chosen to leave.

My silence provoked him to finish the conversation.

"Try to sleep. Derik and Willi will be here by tomorrow," he finished.

Then he turned and left. I wondered why he hadn't fought a little more. Was he giving up? Was he preparing himself to be shot down by his daughter who had barely held his family together in his absence? Did I even want him in Anna's life after everything he had put us through? Was I ready to make that decision to determine whether Anna would ever have a real father?

I began to remove some of the heavy clothing I was still wearing from earlier. Not only was I mentally exhausted, but physically as well. I hadn't slept much in prison, but being here gave me enough security I needed to finally close my eyes in peace.

Tomorrow would be better, I kept telling myself.

Theconsistent aching in my heart would soon disappear. I would see Anna and mom andhope that when I told them about dad everything wouldn't crumble. But as of nowI needed to rest, so I closed my eyes and let the serene feeling of sleepovertake me.