Chapter 9 : Miracles and Mary Jane

Dee’s POV

“Would you like to receive a collect call from Rikers Island?”

“Yes.” It was always anticlimactic this part, even though it sent my teeth on edge. It wasn’t like in the movies where you were immediately patched through. There was a static little hiccup where you held your breath, hoping that the call hadn’t dropped, because you knew—

“Duckie?” His voice sounded like it was coming out of a tin can. The reception in prison was terrible but it held.

“Daddy?” And just like that I could breathe again.

I was outside the library. My day consisted of collecting all the syllabuses, passwords, and homework I’d missed. Easy, if a little nerve-wracking because of everything I had missed thus far. God, it wasn’t like this was getting any easier to deal with. Grad school would be worse than this, but the sheer span of work—No, focus on your father, Dee. You only got so much time.

“How are you?”