When I was a child on Luna, the galaxy seemed much bigger than me. My favorite teacher as a child, Mr.Han, explained how the vast distances that separated us were insurmountable alone. Yet, with the collection of our great minds, soon, we would colonize the whole galaxy. He took great pride in his son joining the Voyager heading out to colonize another one of Jupiter's moons. Humanity’s boundaries seemed to expand constantly, but my personal boundaries seemed to shrink daily.

I had been discharged three days ago from the medical wing, and the warden had thought it best to place me in protective custody. I agreed with the decision. It was for lower-level offenders and prisoners at risk of harm. I met that description. Even in protective custody I could feel the eyes of the albino man watching from somewhere close. I began to notice the signs of his influence that I did not notice before. A prisoner mopping the floor, A guard doing his rounds, or a cafeteria worker stirring that God-awful mixture of peas, onions, and synthetic meat. All of them were watching and whispering to him everything I did. I did not think their eyes tracking me was a delusion. Everyone has a sixth sense. That uneasy feeling when someone is watching or the little pinprick in your brain telling you to whirl around to confront some danger. I have felt it in droves the last three days.

The new cell they moved me to was identical to the previous one except without the warmth of having lived there. I did not know every nook and cranny, and I had less stuff. The guards had thrown most of my items out or maybe stolen them while I was in the medical wing. I leaned on the side of them trashing it because I doubt they cared for posters of Selene Lenning and books about the faults of earth's civilizations. The only items I was hurt to lose were the letters. I wanted to go on a tirade and be angry at the guards for it, but when I tried to draw on that pain, it was like I reached into a great void. I wish I had responded, but now the letters are gone.

I sat in a squeaky cot in my new cell and flipped the business card Mr. Greene had given me. It wasn’t a pristine eggshell color anymore. I had folded or crumpled it up so many times the last three days, either in anger or out of boredom, that it looked like it would break off into little pieces if I were not careful. I had not called the number. I had thought about it, but I knew better than to place my hopes on the unknown. Well, at least sometimes I knew better.

“Wesley Howard, you have a visitor,” a strong voice yelled. My ears perked up, and I sat up in my bed. Officer Rowlins was standing there with his left hand in his pocket and his right firmly on their prison-issued stun gun.

“A visitor? For me?”

“Is that a rhetorical question, or are you, stupid son? I heard that Albino fellow got you good, but he must hit you harder than I thought. You’re making the same face as those monkeys on TV make when they can't puzzle out how to get to the grapes.”

“That is just my regular face, but thanks for the visual,” I replied as smoothly as possible. It would be a waste to direct my anger at Rowlins; it was best just to let it go. Officer Rowlins, Red-faced and shaped like apple pie, was the man in charge of my section. We had seen much of each other the last two days, and Rowlins had made sure that we had gotten acquainted. He loved to talk, but the man could be lacking in manners at times and be very glib. He is the type of man you do not invite to a wedding but instead to the reception.

“Oh, don't be glum; I didn't mean anything ‘bout it. I’m happy to see you’re alright. Believe me. It gets quite depressing in this section, if I’m being honest. You never know if you’ll find an inmate hanging from the ceiling next time you come to check on them.”

“That does sound quite depressing,” I replied.

“That it is. That it is,” Rowlins said, nodding with a grim smile. “Come on. You got someone waiting for you.”

He cuffed me and led me out of the cell and down the extensive hallways of the prison. The prison housed one of Mars’ moons, so the building was shoddy and drab on the inside. Just concrete walls with regular rebar instead of nano bite-reinforced metals. The Martian Republic would never approve of wasting materials to make an expensive prison like those on Earth. They would sooner kill criminals in secret to save some extra credits. A company puts in a proposal for a new space transport contract, and the martian government laps it up like a greedy dog, but as soon as public good comes up for debate, their pockets are empty.

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

He led me to the guard post, where an older undersider with freckles buzzed us through. The old man smiled at officer Rowlins and said, “I thought you took off today? Ain’t it your anniversary?”

“It is, but a little extra credit never hurts. We’re still going out for dinner. Got us a reservation at Clancy’s.” We walked into a small hallway and waited for the scanner to do its work. The hallway was thin and covered in tinted glass, with a walkway in the middle. The small green light array lit up on the wall behind me and made its way from the crown of my head down to the soles of my feet. Another buzzer sounded and the second door opened to the visitor section of the prison.

“I’ll be seeing you,” Rowlins said, his smile radiant. The older man smiled and went back to doodling on the holo-pad in front of him. “Come on. Your visitor is waiting just down the hall.” Rowlins prodded my side with a thin baton that could extend to the size of a baseball bat if necessary. I slapped the rod away in surprise, and he jumped back with his hand hovering around on his stun gun. “What do you think you're doing, prisoner?”

“You just surprised me, that's all,” I replied. I had not meant anything by it. I just hated the feeling of being poked and prodded like an animal. I showed him my hands and did my best to look sincere. Rowlins did not strike me as the aggressive type, but I was not looking to risk another three weeks locked away drinking liquid meat through a straw. I learned this lesson the hard way during my first week in prison when I tried talking back to a guard. He had taken out his baton and beat me like I was some animal that was misbehaving. I had seen a cruel gleam in his eye as he did it. The same gleam I had seen in people like the albino man and Keenan. Power does that to people. Just check their eyes, and you will see the evil in them.

I planned to serve the rest of my five-year sentence as quietly as possible. All I needed to do was solve the albino man problem. I could solve the problem. I just needed to contact some old friends to pay off Keenan so he would call off the Albino man.

“Let’s go,” Rowlins grunted.

He walked me down the visitor's hallway, where the rooms had been filled with prisoners and guests. Each room told a different story. In one room, a tall man paced back and forth with animated movements and obscene hand gestures, berating a young woman as she nursed a newborn baby. In another, an older woman with more gray hairs than black ones sat kneeling next to her husband as they prayed. I wondered who it would be waiting for me.

My wife had not visited me yet, but I still hoped she would have a change of heart. As far as the Mars court system had been concerned, we were still married, and if I could borrow some money to take care of my Keenan problem, we would stay that way. Rowlins stopped at a green door and pushed it open to reveal my wife and daughter sitting on a chair facing toward the door.

“Dad!” My daughter's eyes lit up as she ran to me. I lifted her into the fiercest hug I had ever given and held on tight to ensure that she was not a figment of my imagination. She was taller than I remembered, but she still had dark brown skin and brown eyes that matched my own. Her tiny nose and thick eyebrows she got from her mother. I like to think she was the best of both of us.

“Dad, you are squeezing me too tight,” she giggled.

“I’m sorry I’m just so glad to see you guys.” I looked over my daughter's shoulder toward my wife Annalise, who sat back at the table with a stoic look on her face. I released Angela from the hug and grabbed her hand , and moved to join my wife at the table. I sat my daughter on the seat next to me and let my eyes meet my wife. Rowlins had closed the door and stood outside, peering in at me as if he couldn't trust me alone with my family.

“It’s good to see your face. I got hurt pretty bad and was wondering when they would let me out, so I could see you guys in person.”

“I am happy to see you are alright.” She replied.

Her lips had tightened into a slight frown. Annalise had not forgiven me, and I knew she never would. We should have divorced long ago, and if we never had Angie, we probably would not have gotten married anyway. I might have loved her back in college when we met, but that feeling dissipated quickly. She hated my gambling habits. I did not blame her for it, but there was only so much yelling I could take before I started to resent her. She wanted the best for me, but she could not realize that I was at my best when I got that euphoric feeling that only gambling could give me.

“Angela and I are leaving Mars for good. I thought you should know.” Annalise said

“What? Why?’” I managed to get out. “Everything is going to be fine. I'm just waiting on Mason to get approved for the loan. I’ll use some to stave off Keenan’s goons and the rest to make a couple more bets.”

“I can’t live looking over my shoulder for mistakes you have made. I got offered a job a staffing agency on Luna that will require me to leave. I’m taking Angie with me to be safe and away from Keenan.”

“Is it Hylion Greene’s Staffing Agency?”

“I am not allowed to speak about the job yet because It is confidential, but it pays a lot.”

I paused as I looked from her to my daughter's dejected expression, and I knew there was no going back. I had messed up, and now I was stuck somewhere I did not belong with people who wanted to kill me and some anonymous backer taking notice of my family. I saw in my wife a visage of determination. The opportunity for amends had already passed me by, and at that moment, I came to the realization.

“I understand, Annalise. If you think this will make the two of you safe, go for it. I’m sorry I put you in this position, but know that this isn’t the end of me. I promise I’ll be back on Luna once I take care of things here,” I said with as much confidence as I could muster.

“I’ll give you the rest of the time to talk to Angie. I loved you before with all my heart, and that love is still there, but with you, I have to love from a distance.” She forced a smile onto her face, squeezed my hand tenderly, and walked out the door.