Page 129 of Babalon

I remember looking at a magazine before I was called back to see my OB/GYN, thinking it sounded pretty—different. Apparently, it means ‘princess’ and I hope to God that the people who are going to adopt her give her all the princess treatment. She deserves that much after being given up by her convicted mother.

It’s not that I don’t want her, because do. I’d do anything to look at her every day, hoping to see her father looking back at me. She deserves better, more than what I have to give her. I am doing this for our little girl. I want her to have a full family, two parents instead of one. A mother who is present in her life, can take her shopping, educate her, teach her about boys, cute little mani-pedi and coffee dates. Then a father who didn’t neglect her, who didn’t blame her for the broken home he caused, one that would protect her from the ugliness of the world.

Grazing my fingers along the top of my belly, I can feel her wiggling and kicking around. My attention more on her than the judge. I don’t think I’ve ever loved anyone, or anything, as much as I love her. It’s like I was channeling every feeling I’ve ever had for Kace and placed the burden of a broken heart on her.

Another reason she’s going to live with better people, she should be loved unconditionally and not because I will search for Kace in her every day.

“Nadia Pierce, do you understand the charges and sentencing issued to you through the state of Michigan?” the judge asks, breaking me out of the tiny world I keep shoving myself into.

“Yes, your Honor, I understand.”

“Very well. Court is adjourned.”

It’s over.

“Welcome to Bluitt Women’s Prison. You arrived today to fulfill the sentencing you have been awarded through the state of Michigan. You have been assigned a bunk along with a cellmate, and will be transported through the gates of the prison to the first set of checkpoints. At this location, you will be stripped, searched for contraband, and redressed into Bluitt appropriate uniforms.”

“Before you are moved to the next checkpoint, you will be handed your in-prison belongings and your identification. Hold on to these items and replenish them as necessary through commissary. Loss of items will require you to purchase replacements, and if you do not have family to put money on your books, you may end up going without. If you happen to lose your identification, you will face punishment.”

“As a Michigan state ward, you will spend your sentencing working within the prison under the supervision of WardenHayes. You will be allotted weekly visits, but may lose your right to those visits if you fail to cooperate and follow the rules of the penitentiary; other consequences expand to solitary confinement. During your stay, you will remain under constant correctional officer supervision, as well as audio and video surveillance.”

I couldn’t help my small huff, warranting me a glare from the officer as he stood at the front of our transport vehicle. The driver speaking with the officers outside as they walk K-9s along the perimeter of the bus, trying to sniff out anything that may pose a problem for the remainder of our trip and a successful drop off.

“Something funny, inmate?”

“Not at all officer, my apologies.”

Welcome home, Nadia.

Epilogue One

Nadia

Seventeen years is a long time to be incarcerated, especially as a guard. The other inmates see you as the enemy, as do the same people you used to work beside.

Everyone is out to get you.

To hurt you.

To kill you.

It is a never-ending fight to survive that many people don’t live to tell the tale of. I don’t know how I managed to get through the past seventeen years… but I did. I can stand there and lie to your face, telling you it was the hope of seeing my child—Kace’s child—that got me through. Knowing she is out there, alive, doing well, isn’t what drove me to put one foot in front of the other. It was Kace. It’s like his disappearance fueled me, turned me into avengeful woman who is hellbent on surviving prison out of spite rather than need to walk free again.

I should hate myself for worrying more about Kace instead of my daughter, but I didn’t get the time to bond, outside of just being pregnant. As soon as I pushed her out, the nurses snatched her away. Yanked the placenta from my body, and sent me back to prison. I didn’t get to see her, hold her, hear her cries, know her weight, length, see if she had hair, nothing.

She was adopted out before she could have her first taste of formula, all while I sat in prison and rotted until the day I earned my parole and was released. My heart exists in a constant state of agony, reliving the days that lead up to my arrest. Along with the entirety of Kaces vanishing.

I don’t know if he was ever found. I half believe that Lucien killed him. Trading his life for mine… ours… I knew he wasn’t going to make it out alive. I pleaded for information and updates on his case, from anyone but it all fell on deaf ears. Making my prison stint creep by agonizingly slow.

All I want now is to see Sadie.

Wishing to see her dad in her eyes, something.

“Here you go, Nadia. Your belongings,” Jazmin, one of the female Bluitt guards blurts.

Her luxurious voice draws me out of my daydream, my plan to reunite with my daughter.

“Thanks, Jaz. You’re going to hold it down for me while I’m gone, right?”

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