4| patience

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HELENE HAD LEARNED TWO things in the week she had spent in Brooksville Penitentiary. One, the director didn't care at all what she did, as long as she smiled for the occasional press photo. Two, Nathan barely slept. She had had her first encounter with him on day one and though she had wanted to go back the next day, she instead chose to leave him be for a week. It hadn't been unnoticed, just like she had planned. The guards came to her almost around the clock to report that he had been demanding to see her. If she wanted to make progress quickly, she had to find a faster way to make him open up after all. He'd be much more inclined to speak after a week of only seeing the guards in front of his solitary cell. Sure, it wasn't the most ethical way, but there was no place for morals in this place anyway.

She had spent the whole week reading through the binder, barely any information available about his youth. The police reports told her the story about abusive parents, both to each other as to their children. He had had a younger sister, but she disappeared when he was still a child. They were never able to find her body. After he became twelve it was like he had disappeared himself, most of the binder in extensive detail about his murders and other crimes, many of which they had yet to discover. The only thing connecting all of the victims was that they were men, but other than that, they were spread out over the country, some even international.

All of it was flawlessly thought out, to the point that if he hadn't confessed, no one would have been able to put the pieces together. Why had he confessed? It was still such a strange mystery to her. He had let himself get caught, that she was sure of, especially with him telling everything within minutes, but she couldn't think of anything. What good would prison do him? With his solitary cell, it wasn't like he was building a network here either. He was lucky if he saw the guards, most of them staying as far away from his sight as possible.

"He has the eyes of death," one had told her and though she was not sure what exactly that was supposed to mean, she also did understand it at the same time.

With a sigh she closed the binder, having mulled his crimes over for too long. She wouldn't find the answer in those pages. It was fine though, now, on day seven, she didn't need to. The frequency of him asking for her had severely increased at this point, so when someone knocked on her office's door, she didn't need to ask what it was for. To her surprise Dante entered the room, the guards who usually came nowhere to be seen.

"Tell me why that crazy bastard keeps telling you to come," he frowned," Jerry just told me in the hallway."

"Why else?" Helene said as she got to her feet," he's bored."

"So am I," Dante complained," you sit around all day reading and I get to walk circles in this prison as my punishment. At least the previous psychiatrist actually did what they were hired for."

"I thought your punishment was guarding me," she said, walking past him," not walking in circles."

"Like I told you," he huffed, following along nonetheless," there's not much guarding to do when you never leave the room."

For a moment Helene thought about the texts she had been receiving daily now, the way Zion's urgency grew with every hour. Even if he found her new job, he wouldn't be able to get inside the prison, would he? One of the reasons she had chosen Brooksville had been that it was the most heavily guarded place in the world, so she didn't think that safety would fail her now.

"I wonder," she murmured to herself.

Dante's gaze flicked towards her at once, almost as if confused at the words, but he didn't pry.

"Where are you going?" he said instead," don't tell me you're joining me on my walk now, because I'd prefer to go alone."

"I'm going to see that crazy bastard you were talking about," she smiled," I asked the guards to go get him for me twenty minutes ago, I believe I owe him a visit still."

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