me up.
I’d called Trevor from the prison phone two weeks before my release date. Then again one week before. Then again three days before. It rang and rang. The last time, it went straight to voicemail, and the message said the mailbox was full.
I’d called Monica too. Her number had been changed.
So I took the bus.
I sat in the back row, by the window, with my plastic bag in my lap. A woman across the aisle was eating a bag of chips, and the crinkling sound
