Welcome back! I don't know why I kept on thinking that June had 31 days, so I actually had an extra day to write this chapter... Silly me! That's ok. As usual, the original SOA characters and likenesses belong to Kurt Sutter, and the characters I created, Everett, Sailor, Maddie etc, all belong to myself! Anything related to the movie Let's go to Prison I would guess belongs to Jim Hogshire, but I may be wrong.

Manslaughter.

Normally, manslaughter got you between four and fifteen years. Get yourself a good lawyer, you can maybe walk with three years firm.

The only evidence they had and pushed towards the jury had been the phone call to the emergency services. The ones where they could hear her clear as day apologizing to Randy as he laid dying. They had decided, whom, she didn't know or care, that it meant guilt.

Everett had been feeling guilt. Everyday since then. There hadn't been a single day where she hadn't knelt beside that bunk bed, hands joined in a prayer, to be forgiven for being so stupid. For being so nagging. For walking away like he had demanded. If she hadn't, they would have been two, and Rain would have lived. Or they both would have died, guns blazing against whoever had done this to Rain.

Rain was going to surrender for arson and homicide. So he was less than nothing in everyone's eyes. So much less than nothing that Everett had been sentenced to jail because they couldn't possibly give her a medal for offing a Son. One year. One year was her sentence. She was practically a hero in the eyes of law enforcement.

Lawrence came to see her often. Truth had come out about her and Rain when she got hauled away from his dying body, kicking and screaming to stay with him. She hadn't wanted Randy to die alone, surrounded by stranger. Downstairs, Law was coming up, alerted that something was going on with one of his members. She had screamed for him, begged him to hurry upstairs, that Rain couldn't be alone with them. He'd seen her crying, shoe-less, disheveled and screaming for Randy, putting two and two together hadn't been so hard, she had some of her things all over that apartment. Toothbrush, hairbrush, clothes, tools, motorcycle gear. Photos, in the bedroom. He still had known she never could have done that. Either that, or her parents had convinced Lawrence. Told him about the wedding plans and shit. Because she knew it couldn't have been Bob Seger or Joker. Even in tragedy, they would remain tombs.

They both came and visited her often. It was hard, being in jail. She'd spent plenty of time caged up at the commissariat pending investigation, or in the drunk tank, but she had never been jailed up this way. She saw her father, and Herman Losique, but she refused to see her mother or Maddie. She never wanted them to see her like this. It was hard enough putting a brave face on for the guys. Losique had told her that he would sponsor her in place of Rain. Losique was the only one who could sit there quietly, and not try to make her talk. He'd just slip her cigarettes, once in a while, when the guards weren't looking, he'd reach across the table and rub her knuckles, and try to smile, as if to say "I got your back".

Don't trust, Rain had said. Don't trust, someone. That had been obsessing her. Whom? Whom shouldn't she trust? She knew it couldn't possibly have been her friends. Rain sang Joker's, Losique's, Bob Seger's and Lawrence's praises really often. He trusted them more than he trusted his own parents. Don't trust meant it had been an inside job. Someone she knew, someone she normally would trust.

Some days, in her loneliness and paranoia, she thought the only ones she could truly trust were Losique and Joker. All other could be suspect. And the motives obsessed her. Why? What threat could Rain Queen possibly to anyone? He was physically imposing, yes, but the guys wasn't particularly brainy, he just liked to follow order and keep his routine. He was just brawny. And she knew it couldn't possibly be the result of a Mayhem vote. Losique would have never voted "yea" for that. Not in a million years. He and Rain were practically brothers. They had pent a lot of years in foster care together, and had managed to be adopted together, in the same extended family.

And Joker... Joker had sponsored Randy, when Randy first wanted to become a son. He'd been the only guy Joker had ever sponsored. Despite only being fourteen years apart in age, Joker had always been some sort of father figure to Rain. He wouldn't have went with the mayhem vote either.

All this thinking had to stop. She knew it, but had no real control over it. She was a few notches away from the string billboard of possible suspects and motives. Sometimes, she would just scream at the top of her lung. That there was no motives to kill Randy Coin. Absolutely none. But that she had to know who his killer was. Because if it had been someone she had never known or met, he wouldn't have spoken of trust as he laid there dying. He would have said some shit like "hold on, Bug", or "I love you, you know that?"

He said.

Don't trust.

Manslaughter. One year.

Was Everett Lowman finally going insane? She had always taken pride in keeping her little crazy side, gift of her birth mother, under control. Keep the paranoia and manipulation and scheming under a firm grip. It was OK to do bad things to people, but if had to be clean and direct. No toying with peoples' heads. No manipulating them into what she wanted. No scheming her way around. She didn't want to be like Esther. Never had wanted to be like Esther. Everett wanted to be like Sailor and Happy.

The hardest thing in jail was the lack of physical contact. She easily could have gotten herself a girlfriend inside, to trump it, for a good fuck, but she didn't want that. She missed her mom's and Rain's hugs. And her dad's. Her dad gave, without the shadow of a single doubt, the best hugs ever. The kind of hugs that made you feel like you mattered to him. That he'd never let you go, he'd always have your back. They were a million time better than Sailor's mom hugs in optimal conditions. And those were really good hugs. She missed being able to just sneak into the elevator, and go downstairs to go sleep between her parents, even if she was on the wrong side of twenty-five.

She missed her cat. Her cat that could ignore her for days, only to want to cuddle her when she sat on the computer chair, doing some accounting for people. Mittens would come over and scratch her thighs to shreds until she took him on her lap. He'd sit there and purred and rolled around to finally leave after leaving a ton of orange and white hairs on Everett's shirt.

She missed real food. Everything served here came from giant plastic bags. It was saggy, tasteless, texture-less, and had really strange colors. "Meat, not meat?" she'd be asked. Before, before she'd ever went to jail, it made her laugh, when she'd listen to "Let's Go To Prison", and the kitchen guy would ask Will Arnett "meat, not meat?" and he'd asked what the difference was. Now, it made her want to cry. It hadn't been a scene for comedic relief. It had been the sad truth. Meat, not meat? She could shank a bitch for a single plate of something her mother had "slaved over all afternoon cooking"...

She'd shank a bitch for an octopus hug from Maddie. For a moment of smoking alone with her dad, watching chicks walks in front of their apartment building. To have Randy back. A black, meaningful stare from King. Or a "ew! Ew, ew I-don't-wanna-hug-you-in-front-of-my-friends-because-you-smell-gross-and-this-is-embarrassing" moment with Flo.

She was crying all the time. It was pathetic, but there was no one to tell her to stop. She just didn't know what she would do, when she would get out of jail, in four more weeks. Her apartment would still be full of Randy's presence. The clothes and tools and motorcycle gear he'd left there. The projects and shit. She had waited so long for Randy. She'd spent so long sighing and lusting after him, there could be no one else to ever replace him.

The only thing she knew she could count on was that her parents would have kept her apartment, or at least some place to stay. Be it a smaller place or her old bedroom back. Losique would sponsor her to become a son, when Lawrence would accept her as a prospect. And her parents would be there. And the only regret she had regarding her year in jail was that there was nothing she could have done to prove her loyalty to the Sons from in here. Sons of Anarchy had no beef with anyone in the women's unit of the prison, and she had no access to the three men's units. Not even when she was on laundry duty. So she was pretty much starting back from scratch.

Four weeks left, in this big, overcrowded, smelly oven. One of the things that kept her going were letters from her little brother King. He was a minor, could not visit her, but he would write her often, telling her he was taking care of her cat, washing her motorcycle or watering her plants. He was such a good kid.

Prison was the absolute worst. No wonder Rain wanted to go in her place. She could absolutely not, was not cut out at all for twenty years in this place. She never backed down from a fight, never let anyone step on her toes, but she couldn't feel like a caged animal much longer, or she would murder everyone in here. She would set the dorms on fire in the middle of the night, and watch the bitch burn. Did they still have death row and lethal injections, in France? Maybe she could transfer to the US? Would that be possible?

No, probably not. She'd never committed a single crime, there. She beat up some people, but she'd never committed any crimes that could get her arrested, and she had became a naturalized citizen of France over a decade ago.

These last four weeks would feel like forever. Now she knew what her dad meant, whenever he spoke of the nine years he'd done in for the Sons, when she was just a little kid. The things you miss. The worry of everyone. The responsibilities that you're supposed to be having, that you can't take care of, and it obsesses you. But her dad had been locked up with almost all of his charter, his friends and brothers. She was alone. She'd lost her apprenticeship at the tattoo parlor for sure.

She was anxious about her release. It would mean having to face everyone and everything. She should have stayed upstairs with Rain. She never should have nagged him like that, like a fucking teen girl. He never would have yelled for her to fuck off. If she had a soul, she would sell it to the Devil for just a few hours of Rain.

Fucking manslaughter.