And Then the Guilt Kicked In 11.3

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Third Person POV

With his theory running circles round his mind, Jim started to hunt down the Director to explain his idea to him. If Jim was right, which he was fairly sure that he was, then the inmates—despite the fact that they were all criminally insane—were all in danger from this member of staff. Who knew what would be the result of their next attempt. Would they be forced to speak in a made up language? Would they be forced to act as though they were a dog or a cat? Whatever it was, Jim did not want to find out.

But just like every other time Jim had met up with the Director, the latter did not approve nor agree with what Jim was suggesting because deep down he knew that if Jim was right, then he had failed his job as the Director; and Dr. Lang's pride was far more important to him than anything Jim had to say. He could not be right!

"A staff member?" Director Lang repeated as Jim trailed after him down the West Wing corridor. "That's absurd. It was an inmate."

"I don't think so," Jim countered.

"Your job is to oversee inmate security. You're not authorised to conduct an investigation of the staff," Dr. Lang reminded Jim. But then a sudden realisation occurred to him, making him pause in his steps. "Wait. You're trying to force my hand. You want me to call the police."

"No," Jim shook his head before going to walk away. "I already called them."

A small glimmer of hope blossomed in Jim as he hoped that the person that would be coming to investigate the place would be the person, even though he'd never admit it out loud, he wanted to see most. The person that he missed working with and annoying the hell out of back at the G.C.P.D.

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The sun had risen but she made no attempt to move, no intention to get up and do anything. As her golden hair cascaded down her back, Barbara stared at the small picture in her hand; It had been taken about three years ago, around when she first met Holly. They had gone to a waterpark, just the two of them, and had stopped a random person to take a picture of them coming down the water flumes that ended up in a literal ice pit.

A small smile graced Barbara's face as she saw the carefree laughter on Holly's face, the way that her own eyes were squeezed shut in anticipation, waiting for the ice to come. Barbara remembered that day well. It was the first day that she had seen Holly as her own daughter.

But then the guilt kicked in.

The guilt of being where she was, knowing that Holly would be heartbroken to know the truth. The truth that Barbara had gone back to an old relationship, an old relationship that Holly already knew about.

As the thoughts clouded her mind, the door opened to reveal Renee Montoya with two to-go cups of coffee. She felt the bed behind her dip as Montoya sat on it's edge and looked over at the woman she presumed to be asleep.

"Barbara, you need to wake up," Montoya said, placing the spare coffee on the bedside table.

Plastering on a smile, Barbara rolled over and leant up on her elbows, looking at the woman in front of her.

"Good morning," Barbara replied, her voice thick with sleep.

"I got you coffee," Montoya informed her, handing her the coffee cup that had been cooling in the early morning air.

Taking a grateful sip of it, Barbara smiled widely when she tasted it.

"Extra sweet. You always remember," Barbara commented, placing it on the bedside table.

"Yeah," Montoya sighed. "Have you spoken to Jim recently?"

"Why would I?" Barbara countered quickly, but just as quick she wished she could take it back, knowing that there was a perfectly sound reason to call him. "Renee, you don't have to be jealous of Jim. I'm over him."

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