The Prison Project (by Bethany Donaghy) novel Chapter 37

Margot’s POV

Time dragged.

It had to have been hours since we slammed the door shut behind us, locking Cara and me inside, as we waited for the sirens and yelling to cease.

We hadn’t spoken much since the chaos outside had settled into a dull, distant echo either – just laid here, sprawled across the top of the bed like a pair of forgotten dolls, neither of us wanting to move.

The blanket was scratchy beneath my arms, the pillow beneath my head smelled like Coban’s aftershave – earthy, woodsy, a little like leather – and the guilt was beginning to creep in the longer I stayed here.

This was his space. Not mine. Not Cara’s.

We hadn’t earned it… as Coban would say.

But it wasn’t like we had much of a choice. Cara couldn’t go back to her Block, not after all of that, and I simply couldn’t stomach the idea of sleeping alone. Not after the blood. Not after the yelling. Not after watching Coban disappear into a sea of violence with no promise of coming back out…

I shifted my legs and glanced over at her.

Cara let out a sigh, rubbing her eyes with the heel of her palms. “How long are we gonna be stuck in here?” she grumbled, voice thick with sleep and frustration.

–

We must’ve dozed off — maybe for an hour or so, or maybe more purely out of boredom or stress or sheer exhaustion.

I wasn’t complaining about the nap either.

The brief rest had done wonders for my back, which had still been sore from last night’s sleep on the cold floor. But now that the silence was stretching, dragging its weight over us like a heavy coat, the anxiety was clawing back up again.

‘I don’t know,” I said flatly, staring up at the ceiling.

“I can’t stand not knowing what happened after we left…” Cara sighed, as I hummed in agreement.

It was weird how the past twenty–four hours had felt like an entire month.

How we had been completely swept up in this new routine, new lifestyle.

I hated to admit it, especially this early on, but I couldn’t help but route for Coban and Leo’s freedom now.

Perhaps Coban could actually learn to be a bit softer? A bit more understanding and less hot headed? He wasn’t the worst, and I was certain of that… and therefore, I was more than willing to give the guy a chance.

That’s what this project was for, right? To give these men another chance?

I just hope that he has the opportunity to at least continue with this… if he’s fit to do so after the fight that is…

I gulp at the mere thought, not wanting to think about all of the ‘what if‘ outcomes again…

Before my thoughts are ripped to shreds as we both suddenly jolt upright hearing loud, firm knocks pound down against our door.

I barely had time to process it before the electronic buzz of the lock sounded next, making my stomach flip. The door was opening.

Coban?

Was he back now?

Was it all over?

I stood up fast, smoothing down my sweatshirt and brushing at my hair, nerves pinging inside me like electric static. I suddenly felt awkward about Cara being in here with me. In his personal space.

What would he think? What if he didn’t like it?

But if wasn’t her fault… it couldn’t be helped after what had gone down!

But I sighed instantly; realising that it wasn’t him.

Instead, the door creaked open and two guards stepped inside – one female, one male. Both in full uniform, stern but calm,

Oh no… was this bad news?

–

I managed a tight smile, nodding once. The woman’s presence felt steadier than the others we’d met. Like she actually gave a shit. Not just about the program or the guards‘ egos – but about us, the vulnerable girls that had been tossed in here without much warning.

“Thank you,” Cara answered for the both of us, her tone still hesitant but polite.

The woman gestured toward the hallway. “Come on then. Let’s get you both something to eat.”

I stood slowly, my legs stiff and sore, my stomach twisting with newly discovered hunger, or maybe it was just dread?

We followed them out without a word, the door clicking shut behind us, as we noticed the others exiting their rooms too.

It felt horrific being out in the open without Coban around as my companion. I felt almost exposed now, despite having two guards walking us there.

But this was only for a short time though, right?

“At least we don’t have to swap prisoners…” Cara whispers, relieved as I nod in shared agreement.

She’s right.

And at least Cara and I weren’t being separated either, not until they get back.

For a second, I let myself hope that tomorrow… maybe tomorrow would be better.

Maybe Coban would come back, relieved to get another chance in the project?

And maybe we could all just pretend for one more day that this place was somehow survivable?