The Warm Algorithm

Chapter 34: Reflections Behind Bars

Rob sat on the edge of his narrow bunk, the cell quiet except for the faint hum of the overhead lights. The heavy clang of the door closing behind him echoed through the corridor, leaving him alone once again in the small, sterile space. The familiar disinfectant smell mixed with the lingering weight of confinement, a reminder of everything he had lost.

His mind drifted back to earlier, to the brief visit that had stirred more than he expected. Calixta had placed the cake on the table, smiling shyly as she looked at him.

"You're always extra, my Cali girl," he had said, patting her head gently, a small smile breaking through the rough edges of his usual stoicism.

Lucien had interrupted then, extending his hand.

"It's been a while, Rob Wilson. By the way, I am her boyfriend."

Rob had nodded, silent, measuring the distance between the man who once had guided him through the courtroom and the one who now stood before him.

Now, back in the solitude of his cell, the memory replayed vividly. He dropped his bag onto the bunk and let out a long, quiet sigh.

Life had changed in an instant, branded by a single phrase that echoed endlessly in his mind: "Life imprisonment." The words had landed like a hammer, leaving no room for argument, no space for hope. He recalled the faces of the jury, the unyielding expression of the prosecutor, and the calm, controlled demeanor of his lawyer, Lucien Kael.

Lucien. He had been his guide, his advocate, the man who had stood beside him through the formalities of justice. And yet... even Lucien's efforts hadn't been enough. The verdict had been final. The gavel had fallen. And the weight of consequence had settled over him like a stone.

Rob's fingers drummed quietly on the edge of the bunk. He remembered Lucien's eyes that day, the faint shadow of disappointment hidden behind professional composure. A flicker of something almost human had crossed Lucien's face as the gavel came down, something Rob hadn't forgotten.

Seeing Calixta today, even for a brief moment, had stirred emotions he didn't expect: nostalgia, longing, and an uneasy acknowledgment of the man Lucien had become. It was a reminder of the life that could have been, and the bonds that still lingered in small, fleeting gestures.

Rob leaned back, closing his eyes, letting the silence of the cell swallow him. Life here would be measured in routines, small victories, and rare moments like today. But the memory of the courtroom, the day it all ended, and the complicated connections with those outside would linger, inescapable.

And somewhere, deep inside, a thought persisted, some connections, some debts, some grudges, didn't fade. They waited, patient, for the next move.