"So. Mbege drops the supplies everywhere, right and everyone turns to look at him. I'm thinking: it's over, we're finished."
Murphy spoke with enthusiastic hand gestures as he lost himself in the story that he was telling and I nodded to indicate that I was listening. He frequently gave exaggerated performances of his escapades on the Ark and although I was sure that a large majority of them were bravado, I enjoyed the company regardless. I wasn't sure how to explain the bizarre dynamic between us that had developed over the past few months. It wasn't quite a friendship; it couldn't be when I'd never uttered a word to him and sometimes I questioned whether he even liked me, or if he simply enjoyed the opportunity to boast to a willing listener without interruptions. The more that I considered our bond, the more complex it became, as I realised that I was unsure whether I liked him either, or if his tall tales were purely a better choice than constant solitude.
Murphy was arrogant and loud, both things that were usually incredibly off putting for a timid personality like me. It was clear that he wasn't particularly interested in a balanced friendship, as long as he had someone listening he was content to talk at them. I'd noticed that he also enjoyed watching me sketch and I theorised that it was simply a lack of entertainment that drew him to me. He closed his story with a thrilling end as usual and I smiled slyly at him whilst I continued to sketch.
"So. At some point you're gonna tell me your name, right?" He asked, placing his elbows comfortably on the table between us as he leaned toward me with interest and I stared back at him with wide eyes, caught off guard by his sudden question. He relentlessly examined me, causing me to feel immensely pressured in the silence and eventually I shrugged back at him awkwardly. "Still undecided, huh? I guess I'll just stick with Sunshine for now then." He stated and I released a long breath that I didn't realise I had been holding. We lapsed into silence as I returned to sketching and he observed me with interest.
Murphy was obviously entirely comfortable around me, sitting with one leg up on the bench in a relaxed slouch and I wondered how he could be so at ease around someone who never spoke. He'd been around often enough for it to feel like he knew me well, but realistically I'd been little more than a sounding board for his thoughts. There was no set routine for when he would show up. He simply appeared and dropped himself at my table as if he belonged there whenever it took his fancy. I questioned whether this inconsistency was to prevent me from becoming too dependent on his company, or rather a tactic for him to maintain his influence amongst the other groups that he hung out with.
"Really? Wolves?" He remarked and I glanced up from my work in surprise. He was examining me with a brow raised in interest and I shifted slightly in my seat. I'd been working on this piece for a couple of days now and it was finally forming into a picture of a pack of wolves surrounding a small, fluffy rabbit. It was unusual for me to do a full piece like this, but I'd grown tired of doodling and the image had been haunting my dreams for a while, so I hoped that committing it to paper might help me to move past it. "If the wolves are supposed to be the other prisoners, they should at least look rabid." He added with a sly smile and I fixed him with an unimpressed expression. "Oh, don't look at me like that, Sunshine. It's just the truth and sometimes the truth hurts." He crooned and I rolled my eyes at him in disappointment.
A while passed without any further attempts at conversation and Murphy ate his lunch whilst I slowly added the finer details to my work, acutely aware of his observation. It was strange to explain, but even though his presence was brash and at times overwhelming, there was still something oddly comforting about having him around. My work seemed better when done opposite him, as if his admiration inspired me and although he rarely gave direct compliments, he made it clear in his behaviour that he was amazed by what I could accomplish. I suspected that he didn't have a great deal of access to the arts before now, as I considered my sketches to be somewhat basic and it gave me a new perspective on how fortunate I had been to have a father who nurtured my interests.
"What do you call a dinosaur with no eyes?" Murphy broke the silence with a bizarre question and I glanced up at him suspiciously. He stared back at me expectantly, as if awaiting a reply and I knew that he was hoping to trick me into speaking. It had been such a long time that we'd sat together with me in silence now that I felt too self conscious to answer him, as if he was simply awaiting his chance to win a wager and worried that he would drop me the first moment that he accomplished his goal. Instead, I simply arched a brow at him in silent response. "A do-you-think-he-saw-us." He announced proudly, an amused smirk spreading across his lips as he awaited my response.
"Pfft!" A quiet giggle burst from my lips, despite my best efforts to remain unmoved and he seemed thoroughly intrigued as he leaned close to me.
"So, you do have a voice box, at least." He remarked with enthusiasm and I shook my head at him in disbelief. I'd known in my gut that he was up to something and after numerous attempts to gain a verbal response from me, I was hardly surprised to find that this very out of character joke was yet another tactic. "And apparently a sense of humour too. Noted. So, you're just choosing not to speak? Interesting. Tell me, Sunshine...who broke you?" He interrogated in a dead-pan tone and I tilted my head at him disapprovingly. Though I could understand his frustration at my continued silence, I couldn't move past my suspicions, still feeling that he could possibly even be a mole for the guards. I clenched my jaw, causing him to release a deep sigh and begin to fidget out of his seat.
"Well, I'm going to make a move before you talk my ear off. Honestly, it's impossible to get a word in edgeways with you." He stated with a playful wink, before he got to his feet and gathered his things to leave. In a spontaneous decision, I ripped the finished sketch from my pad and held it out to him. Whilst he'd been chatting mindlessly, I'd allowed my feelings to dictate the rest of the piece and added a wolf at the side of the rabbit, protecting it from the rest of the pack. Murphy examined it for a moment, before peering at me over the top with a taken aback smile. "For me? Awesome. I'll stick it to the wall in my concrete box." He breezed, smiling widely before he strolled away and left me alone in the large canteen.
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As per my usual routine, I sat in the cafeteria doodling in my book and my mind wandered. I couldn't help feeling distracted lately, as Abby's visits became even more infrequent and Murphy had been absent, leaving me with plenty of time to reflect. Most of the inmates were in high spirits following their visitation sessions this morning, but I'd had no one ask to see me and I recalled a conversation that I'd had with Abby at the beginning of my sentence. As it turned out, she'd been painfully correct in her assumptions that the people who were involved in my crime wouldn't reach out to me and as time passed, it grew difficult to remain faithful that they had no bad intentions. I struggled to hold on to the belief that they were being monitored and could not risk any contact with me, but the continued silence was becoming taxing.
When I finally returned my attention to my art, I realised that I had filled the page with tiny details that would only be recognisable to me, every one of them relating to Cian. Viewed as a whole, I had essentially created a tribute to my feelings for him and even the sight of it made my heart ache. I was tired of not speaking, holding my opinion inside and living in terror, and the idea of serving the remainder of my punishment in such a manner was daunting.
"Alright. Serious question for you." Murphy's sudden voice startled me from my thoughts, as he appeared by the table and glanced down at me with interest. I quickly hid the artwork underneath my pad, but was pretty certain he'd already seen it by his crooked brow. "If I told you that you had a great body, would you hold it against me?" He drawled, a confident smirk filling his handsome features and I rolled my eyes at him. He chuckled as he settled into his usual seat opposite me, clattering his tray loudly on the table. It had become a frequent greeting for him to announce his arrival with some sort of witty chat up line or another, and although I would never admit it, I'd actually come to look forward to them.
"You know, not only have I never heard you talk, but I hardly ever see you eat either. I'm starting to think that you might be a figment of my imagination." He mumbled between bites of his food and I shook my head at him with a quiet laugh. It had been weeks since I'd seen him last and his company relaxed my frazzled mind. He placed his food down and stared at me with an intensity that was unusual for him, catching me off guard.
"Okay, really? We've been hanging out at lunch for months now and I still don't know anything about you, other than that you draw. I mean, why are you even here? You hardly seem dangerous. What station are you from? Do you have any family?" He quizzed and I shuffled uncomfortably in my seat at his onslaught of questions. "Shit. I don't even know your name!" He muttered, staring at me impatiently and I chewed on my lip, caught between my fear of being alone and my paranoia that he might be spying on me.
"Why am I even wasting my time on you? It was fun having someone to listen for a while, but you're clearly never going to talk. Forget it." He spat as he rose to his feet, every movement radiating with aggravation and as he took his first step away, I could contain my feelings no longer.
"Cassidy!" I blurted, hardly even recognising the sound of my own voice as it emerged sharp and frantic, and Murphy whipped back to face me in disbelief. I could tell from his expression that he was unsure whether the sound had actually come from me or not, as he'd had his back to me at the time and I cleared my throat with a wave of anxiety. "Cassidy." I repeated, gentler this time to ensure that only he would hear and his brows shot up in shock, before he slowly sank back into his seat.
"That's your name?" He asked carefully and I nodded back in confirmation. There were a few moments of tense silence as he analysed me, seeming as if he suspected that I had swindled him with false information, before he finally relaxed his shoulders just slightly. "You sound different. I can't tell what it is. What station are you from?" He interrogated as he thinned his eyes at me, crossing his arms across his chest and I dropped my gaze down to the table to avoid him. I gulped as the fear struck me again that he might leave and prayed that knowing my name would be enough to convince him to allow me more time to build my confidence with him. "Alright. A name's a good start, I guess." He confirmed in a lighter tone and I sighed heavily in relief. "I'm not letting you off the hook, though. I have plenty more questions. I've gotta know what a cupcake like you did to get arrested." He added with a cheeky wink and I felt my heart skip a beat.
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Months passed with my irregular visits from Murphy and although I'd barely spoken at all since revealing my name, he still seemed content to shower me with crazy stories and was even more enthusiastic now that I would give him a rare comment in response. Sometimes, I was sure that he ramped up their intensity in an effort to prompt me to speak and I had to chuckle at the effort that he was willing to invest. Already, I was glad that I hadn't allowed him to leave, as the days that he joined me for lunch helped to make all the others that I spent alone bearable.
Abby still came to talk when she could spare the time, but every time that she did, she seemed more exhausted and it was clear that the destruction of her family was slowly tearing her apart. There was little that I could do to assist her from behind bars and I found myself wishing that I was still in the clinic by her side, to support her through this experience.
Recently, the sketches of Cian had become ever more frequent as I re-examined all of my interactions with him, in an effort to understand how I'd landed myself in this situation. In my sketchpad were detailed drawings of his hands, his eyes, the one specific curl in his hair that never sat right, all between doodles of memories that we shared, cups of coffee to represent our late night chats, or piles of pens as he would always steal mine. I was careful to keep my art generic enough that if any of the pieces were taken, they wouldn't lead back to him and even as I painstakingly planned this, I was unsure whether I was doing the right thing in protecting him.
My cell door suddenly swung open and I was met by a set of guards who silently took me from the room. I didn't fight them, feeling too terrified to even control my body and instead simply hoped that my compliance would work in my favour. As we followed a route that I realised was familiar, I felt myself start to calm slightly and acknowledged that I was likely being taken to an interview. Though I didn't relish the idea of sitting through another set of questions that I couldn't answer, I hoped that my consistent refusal would eventually lead them to lose hope in ever cracking me. They turned to a different door than usual and when I stepped inside, it was a far smaller, darker interview room than I had previously seen.
"Prisoner 387, Ballard. As requested, sir." One of the guards announced as they threw me inside and I could barely even make out a silhouette in the darkness.
"Thank you. You can leave us." A strong male voice answered from the back of the room and I felt my heart hammering in my chest as the guards slammed the door closed, leaving me alone with the stranger. "Please. Take a seat, Miss Ballard." They commanded and although their words were polite, their tone made it clear that this was not a request. I shuffled forward and settled into the chair without hesitation, keen to comply with what I could.
"You're very obedient for someone who is apparently causing my guards so much trouble." They commented, before finally stepping into the light and causing my stomach to lurch in dread. The voice belonged to Marcus Kane, a council member who often oversaw guard operations and security. He had a well earned reputation of being harsh and intimidating, and as he studied me with his arms crossed, I gulped nervously. He remained perfectly still for a few moments, staring at me whilst allowing tension to build in the silence before he finally slid into a seat across the cold, metal table from me.
"Now, it is my understanding that you are still refusing to say anything about the circumstances of your arrest, or more specifically, to speak at all." He began, keeping his voice unnervingly even and I chewed on my lip in an effort to prevent myself from speaking. "That is very disappointing. I would have hoped that your time here would have given you ample opportunity to realise how foolish your silence was. The Ark needs your cooperation, Miss Ballard, to keep our home safe and secure for everyone. Think of the good of all, not just yourself. It doesn't benefit anyone for you to end up like your mother, not even you." He presented, speaking as if he were offering me a lifeline and I flinched at even the mention of my mother.
Reflectively, I clenched my jaw and despite my efforts to contain it, I knew that my disdain for her had reached my eyes. Kane sighed with disappointment, clearly having hoped that his supposedly well intentioned appeal would encourage me to trust him and I prepared myself for a long session of such sly tactics.
"What I don't understand is why you would do this. By all accounts, you're a well behaved young woman, hard working and dedicated. You had a bright future ahead of you in medical, which is especially impressive considering your upbringing. It's unusual for a kid from the Agro sector 3-V to find themselves in such an established position, so why would you throw all of that away by taking part in smuggling drugs?" He questioned, changing his tactics to flattering and I had to continually remind myself that his admiration for my hard work was little more than a trick to earn my favour.
Though I was tempted to spill everything and end this nightmare, I knew that doing so would cause all of my experiences thus far to be wasted and also lead to the suffering of numerous others on the Ark who depended on the medication that my team was providing. I expected Kane to become frustrated with my silence, but instead he remained determined.
"Look, we know it wasn't your idea. It wouldn't make sense for you to be the mastermind behind this; you have too much to lose and it would be impossible for you to complete such an operation on your own. I think you were forced into this and that whatever information the leaders have against you is making you too afraid to come forward. You don't have to give us the names of the other accomplices if you're scared of getting them in trouble. I know they're probably stuck too, right? Just give us the name of the head and we can protect you. We can protect all of you, but only if you're honest with us. Who is running the drug ring?" He pressed and I fidgeted in my seat, struggling to remain silent under his questioning.
It seemed so simple: tell the truth and we'd all be safe. I could return to my life and care for my father. My heart ached at this idea and for a moment, I was genuinely tempted by the offer. Then I remembered that the cost would be to hand over Cian, who I knew they would never believe had good intentions, no matter what proof he provided them about the legitimacy of the organisation. Instead, he would be in my position, ripped away from his mother who depended on him for everything.
"Did you do it for your father?" Kane asked and I returned to viewing him with a sense of alarm. "I know that you trained in medicine to help him. Many of the people around you have said that you'd do anything for him. I wonder just how true that is." He stated in an unspoken threat and I felt my hands begin to shake under the table. "Perhaps I've got it wrong. Why don't you tell me?" He suggested and I shook my head at him slowly.
"Cassidy, I've given you some generous offers here, but you're not leaving me many kind options. You've got a sick father. You can't afford to be in here. At this point, your only motivation would be protecting him, which would imply that he was complicit. That would be a dangerous road for us to investigate, considering that is above the age of imprisonment. Your father requires a great deal of resources. As far as I'm aware, he's only just within our treatment limits. I'm sure that the council would consider floating him for his involvement easily, once they see how much medication we are providing to keep him alive."
"No!" I gasped, my voice raw with horror as the word burst from my lips and I quickly put a hand over my mouth in regret. Kane placed his elbows on the table to study me with interest and my hands shook with terror as I threaded them through my hair. "My father was not involved in any way and he doesn't know anything." I asserted firmly, gulping down a heavy nausea and Kane remained poker faced over the table.
"Well, if you expect us to believe that then you'd better provide us with a name. Prove that your word is trustworthy." He suggested and I balked at the wickedness of this ultimatum.
It was difficult to think rationally through the panic, as the image of my frail father being marched to an airlock filled my mind and beside it were the faces of all the other interns that could potentially be imprisoned if I judged this wrong. It was gut wrenching as I stuttered for a response and managed to reassure myself that they couldn't simply float a man based on a suspicion and high medical needs. I had to have faith that Abby would not allow such an abuse of power to occur and trusted my instinct that Kane was bluffing.
"I can't." I answered in a shaking voice and his face finally began to reveal his frustration.
"Cassidy, I assure you that this is your best option. You are going to regret the alternative." He stated threateningly and I hardened my expression to conceal any hints of weakness.
"It's the only option." I confirmed finally and Kane pressed a button on the desk to call the guards back into the room.
"Take Miss Ballard back to her cell. I'll see her again when she is ready to explain herself." He ordered, fixing me with a fierce glare before the guards grabbed my arms and aggressively dragged me from my seat.
That night, I realised why I'd never been assigned a cellmate like the others, as they implemented tactics that they would never have risked another inmate revealing. The cell became terribly cold, with the air vents clunking loudly and the lights on the ceiling flashed constantly in an uneven pattern. All of these elements combined made it impossible to sleep and it felt as if my mind could crumble at any moment from the stress.
Suddenly, I realised that they'd been attempting to break me since I arrived by isolating me in the hopes that I would obsess over my sentence and accept a deal. Instead, I became even more determined to maintain my silence and I curled my knees up to my chest, hiding in the corner of the room.
The hours dragged by in a torturous manner and it felt as if the night would never end, as my fingers and toes gradually went numb from the cold. For the first time, I was glad when our cells finally opened and we were led into the cafeteria. I rubbed my hands together for warmth as I walked, hoping that the shared space might feel warmer than usual compared to my freezing cell and settled at my bench to curl up tight. It was barely a few minutes before Murphy noisily arrived and dropped into position.
"Hey, Sunshine. I think there might be something wrong with my eyes." He announced in a stressed tone and despite my exhaustion, I snapped my gaze up to him in concern. "Because I can't take them off of you." He added, thrilled that I'd fallen for his trap and I groaned in frustration. Though it was normal for him to be pleased with himself, he seemed in even higher spirits than usual and his energy was almost unbearable in my current state. He began enthusiastically chomping down the breakfast that I was unsure was even edible and I rubbed at my temples in an effort to appease the headache that was forming there.
"So. I've been busy since I saw you last. I put some feelers out about you, Cassidy Ballard." He crooned, leaning in close so that he wouldn't be overheard and I peered up at him with wide eyes, my mouth hanging open in shock. For a moment, I wondered if I'd misheard in my exhaustion but his proud smile confirmed that he did indeed just address me by my full name.
"I couldn't wait any longer for you to tell me what you did, so I thought I'd see if anyone recognised your name. I wasn't really expecting anything. I thought you'd probably done something too minor for anyone to remember, but it turns out that you're a drug smuggler!" He hissed with a tone that was almost proud and I remained frozen in my shock. "I never would have imagined that you were such a hardened criminal." He teased, winking at me playfully and I slowly shook my head as I processed his words.
"I'm not." I grumbled, fiddling with my hands on the table and avoiding his eyes awkwardly. I couldn't help feeling as if he'd violated my privacy by going behind my back to find out and after what I'd endured over the past 24 hours, I was too vulnerable to manage this. Anxiety flipped in my stomach and I was overwhelmed with the suspicion that he was attempting to draw information from me. I clenched my jaw, refusing to say anything else on the matter and Murphy sighed in disappointment.
We sat in silence for a while, tension hanging in the air between us and I struggled to keep my eyes open. My head dipped several times and I knew that he had noticed as he raised a brow at me in interest. In an attempt to keep warm, I crossed my arms over my chest and Murphy clocked that I was shivering. He seemed to consider addressing this, but instead he shook his head and continued waiting. Without my sketch book, it was far more difficult to be in his company and I knew that he felt it too.
"I've been trying to imagine it, but I just can't see you as a dealer. It doesn't fit you at all." Murphy finally broke the silence as he thinned his eyes at me and I shrugged avoidantly. "But you are the perfect kind of person to be manipulated into being a runner for someone. You're quiet, obedient and non threatening. No one would ever suspect you. You basically have a target on your back." He added thoughtfully and I bit my lip as I struggled to contain the wave of emotions that washed over me from his incredibly perceptive theory.
"You try to hide it, but I've seen your art. There's someone else involved. Someone you can't stop thinking about. Did they sell you out, kitten?" He taunted, studying me closely for subtle hints in my behaviour. Unable to endure his suspicions after such a difficult night, I jumped to my feet and slammed the table in frustration.
"Leave me alone!" I hissed, leaning down towards him so that I wouldn't be overheard and stomped out of the cafeteria before he could get another word out with tears in my eyes.