PRIEST
 
 Leaving visitation was always hard. It didn’t matter how many times I told myself I was used to it; I wasn’t. Seeing Solae smile across that table or over a video call filled me up and emptied me at the same time. She looked strong and always carried herself with that quiet kind of grace that made me fall in love with her. But underneath that calm, I saw the tiredness in her eyes, the kind that came from pretending prison walls didn’t weigh on her.
 
 I dropped the kids off at her parents’ house after. Her mama always greeted me at the door with a grateful smile. It didn’t take long for her parents to start treating me like family. Her father always chopped it up with me, and her mama always packed me a plate before I left every time. She would always say, “You’re takin’ care of my babies, so I’m taking care of you.”
 
 And she was right. I was doing everything I could to take care of Solae and her children.
 
 When I left their house, I headed to the spot. Blu wasalready there, in the back room with the scale and the brick laid out.
 
 He looked up when I came in. “’Bout time, nigga.”
 
 I dropped down in the chair across from him, grabbed some baggies, and started filling them. “Had the kids,” I said. “It was visitation day.”
 
 Blu nodded while scraping powder into a baggie. “How she doin’?”
 
 “She solid. Holding it together. I hate leaving her in that motherfucka.”
 
 Blu smirked. “That’s exactly why we’re about to do something about it.”
 
 He reached for a notepad, flipped it open, and tapped a name written at the top: Harold Denton – Deputy Warden of Programs.
 
 “That’s our guy?”
 
 Blu nodded. “Yup. He’s the one who approves early-release recommendations. If he vouches for a prisoner, they move up the list.”
 
 I tied a bag and tossed it onto the scale. “So, what’s his deal?”
 
 “He’s got a bad gambling problem. He been hittin’ up this underground poker spot in Joliet every Friday. He lost thirty racks in the last two months. He owes a crew that don’t play about their money. They been pressing him hard, so he’s desperate.”
 
 “So, we help him out.”
 
 “Exactly. We pay off the debt. In exchange, he pushes Solae’s file to the early-release board and puts in the recommendation himself.”
 
 I leaned back, thinking it through. “You already talked to him?”
 
 Blu shook his head. “Nah, but he knows we know. I made sure of that.”
 
 I raised a brow. “How?”
 
 Blu grinned, wiping his hands on a towel. “I left him a little care package in his mailbox; an envelope with the debt balance, the poker spot’s name, and a copy of the IOU he signed. At the bottom, I wrote: ‘If you want it gone, call this number.’ I gave him the number to the burner.”
 
 I nodded, impressed. “Smart. That gives him a choice. Makes it feel like he came to us.”
 
 “Exactly. Ain’t no cornerin’ him. We just lettin’ him see the door we left cracked open for him.”
 
 I sealed another bag and set it aside. “You think he’ll bite?”
 
 Blu smirked. “That man’s hurtin’, and I heard the crew he owes is ruthless, be cutting off body parts and shit. He’ll make that call by tomorrow, trust me. Then we clear his thirty racks, and he moves Solae’s file up for consideration.”
 
 “Good,” I said, exhaling slow. “Then it’s set.”
 
 We bagged in silence for a while. My head wasn’t really on the money, though; it was on her, on that way she smiled for the kids, pretending the time wasn’t killing her inside.
 
 Blu finally broke the quiet. “You sure you wanna go this far for her?”
 
 I looked up at him, feeling guilty. “I haven’t gone far enough.”
 
 I was stretched out in bed, trying to sleep, but my mind wouldn’t quit running. Though I didn’t know when Harold would get Solae release, knowing it was in motion had me wired.