The Prison Project (by Bethany Donaghy) novel Chapter 143

Margot’s POV

I didn’t realise how long I’d been wringing my hands until the skin along my knuckles burned raw.

My fingers twisted, pulled, overlapped, untangled continuously over and over again like my body was trying to squeeze the panic straight out of me.

But it wasn’t working.

Nothing was working.

The canteen buzzed with voices, clattering trays, metal scraping on concrete floors that always made me nervous… yet all of it felt far away, muffled under the weight of the dread tightening up in my chest.

Where was he?

It had been hours now…

Hours since Leo’s fist smashed into Coban’s face.

Hours since Coban staggered away, blood dripping, muttering something about being “fine.”

Hours since he left me standing in that damn gym with no explanation at all

And now it was already dinner.

The Mix-Up was starting soon too.

Guards would be coming any minute now to drag Cara and I off to another cell for the week…

It was like starting all over again…

And to my surprise, Coban still wasn’t here. Still wasn’t back to at least try to prepare me for what was yet to

come…

I couldn’t shake the image of his head snapping back, blood spraying, his hand on the treadmill, breath ragged. The sharp yank he gave me afterward, pulling away, refusing to look at me.

Why would he ask Leo to hit him like that?

Why would he need him to go that far?

It made no sense.It scared me.

And the longer he stayed gone, the more my mind slid into the horrible gaps left behind in his silence.

What if he got into more trouble?

What if he was being punished?

What if he’d snapped at someone and landed himself in isolation on the worst possible night?

My stomach rolled at the mere idea of it.

But one drilling thought remained, as my anxiety grew…

What if the new girl he gets paired with tonight is way better for him than me?

The thought hit so hard I sucked in a breath, fingers tightening until my knuckles turned white and pale.

It wouldn’t be hard for her to be better.

More confident.

(Braver.

Less frightened of him.

Less fragile.

Willing to please him…

Girls in this project came in every type, tough, strong, bitchy, desperate…

I’d met and seen plenty of them.

But I wasn’t any of those things.

I was just… trying my damn best.

Soft. Awkward. Easily spooked. Too emotional.

Too much?

Maybe he’d realise that. Maybe he’d prefer someone else. Someone who didn’t tremble every time guards yelled or who didn’t need him to help her breathe some days.

And if he preferred her…

If he chose her…

Would he still keep me safe after?

Would he even care where they sent me?

Would he ditch me?

The idea made my throat close.

What if my next inmate is a complete monster too?

Someone who hated Coban.

Or hated Leo.

Or hated me…

Or just hated women in general!

The project staff always talked about “compatibility” like we were puzzles being fitted together… but everyone knew some pairings were disasters waiting to happen.

My fingers twisted harder.

“Yo, will you chill?”

Leo’s voice sliced into my panic like a slap.

“You’ll snap your fingers clean off if you keep worrying like that – then Coban will damn kill me for it!”

I blinked and jerked my head up.

Leo was staring_at me from across the table with a raised brow and a mouthful of pasta, while Cara nudged my forearm gently.

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