– 1942 –

The first few nights Betty spent in prison, she didn't cry. She wouldn't allow herself to. It was bound to happen at some time, she thought. At least this way it was for someone she loved. But when Gladys showed up to visit her, it all became too real. They didn't speak of much, but just the way her eyes lingered on Betty with such sympathy was enough to make her sick.

How's Kate? The question was at the tip of Betty's tongue at every lull in the conversation, of which there were many. She figured Gladys could see it on her face because she started off in a sort of false nonchalance that Kate intended on visiting soon. Betty didn't know whether to be happy about it or dreadful, and replied only with an, "Oh."

The atmosphere grew increasingly stagnant from there.

When visiting hours were over, Gladys pulled Betty into an embrace and promised to visit her often, her cheerfulness ever-present as though in hopes of intoxicating Betty with it. Betty smiled, said goodbye with, "Yeah… Thanks," and turned to leave the visiting room back into where she'd been sentenced to be confined for 6 years.

That night, she sobbed silently into her pillow before falling asleep with sore eyes and a headache.

Gladys stayed true to her intentions, and visited regularly. She kept Betty updated with factory events and what was happening in the war. In the second week, Gladys leaned into the table between them for privacy they both knew they did not require and asked with slyness how Kate's visit went. Betty looked at her blankly and finally asked, "What are you talking about?"

Gladys' face fell and she furrowed her brow. "She said she was going to come see you."

Betty looked to her hands on the table. "Only people I've seen are you and Mrs Corbett. Vera sent a letter, too. But that's it, Princess." She shrugged and looked to the side uncomfortably.

"Betts, I'm sorry," Gladys said sadly. "Maybe something came up. Maybe…"

"I think we both know why she hasn't come," Betty cut her off. She didn't mean to sound cross, but for just once she'd like to be able to be straightforward. She's already where she'd been avoiding ending up by beating around the bush and being careful anyway.

Gladys fell silent.

For the next few days, Gladys didn't show up to visiting hours. Betty wondered if she'd scared the princess off, but figured there must have been something going on with her. She was always resilient. And one day during that week when the mail was passed to the inmates, Betty received an extra letter than she would normally. Is Vera feeling particularly chatty? She wondered with amusement. She was the only one who sent her regular mail, on the accounts that Vera "won't set one foot near prison, that's for damn sure. The atmosphere just gets me", she'd written in one of her letters. Betty had laughed at that, but appreciated Vera being unapologetically unchanged by the ordeal. Though not lacking for empathy, Vera understood that Betty wasn't looking for sympathy.

Without waiting any longer, Betty flipped over the first letter with the name Vera Burr written in her familiar hand, only to find that it wasn't from the same sender. She could tell from first seeing how Betty McRae had been written, as though more thought had been put into it. Betty looked to see who the letter was from and noted two letters: KA. Immediate recognition of just what those two small letters represented washed over Betty and she smiled with nervous excitement.

She set the letter from Kate aside and began tearing open the one from Vera. While she anticipated reading Kate's letter, it also made her somewhat uneasy – leaving it unread meant it could have anything written, good or bad. Though Betty would sooner prefer good rather than bad.

Once she finished reading Vera's letter, she began thinking of what she'd write in response before having her thought process interrupted as she spied Kate's letter again. She hesitated for a short moment before snatching it up and very carefully unsealing it. She began to read;

Dear Betty,

I'm sorry I haven't visited. Gladys told me I've not done right by you by staying away. I was going to visit, as I'm sure Gladys told you, but when I stood outside those gates I just couldn't bring myself to take one step further. When I think of you I can't imagine what it must be like in there. You're the bravest person I know, Betty McRae.

Gladys told me you'd been writing letters to Vera and I thought maybe we could do the same? If you don't mind, that is.

I know you aren't the one that should be in there and I know there won't ever be anything I can do to repay you, but I'll wait for you, Betty. Will you write me?

Kate Andrews

Betty read the letter over twice more and held her hand to the paper, imagining the ghost of Kate's hand warming it as she held her pen over a blank sheet.

She got pen and paper and wrote.

Throughout the months that passed, Kate and Betty sent letters to each other regularly. Occasionally, Betty would receive more than one a day from her. Letters from Vera became increasingly sparse, and while Betty missed how frequently they once wrote to each other, she didn't feel alone. She understood that there was only so much you could discuss with someone who's most exciting news might be that the cafeteria food was better than usual.

Gladys would still visit and fill Betty in on anything that might be happening on the outside. Betty liked hearing about what was going in with the war but when it came to hearing all the latest gossip from the factory, it only managed to make her feel even more secluded from the real world.

One day during visiting hours as Betty walked into the sitting room, she scoped the room to spot Gladys only to find Kate fiddling nervously with her handbag, eyes drawn downwards. Betty sat herself across from Kate and cleared her throat to be sure that her friend would be known to her presence. Kate brought her eyes up and said shortly, "Betty."

The blonde sat motionless momentarily, scrambling for something to say. She smiled somewhat awkwardly and looked around nervously before setting her gaze on the table and saying, "Where's Gladys?"

Kate's shoulders dropped on hearing the question and her eyes grew sad with disappointment. "I insisted that I go. Was that wrong? Should I leave?" Her voice shook slightly from panic and she'd started getting out of her chair before giving Betty the chance to reply and just as she stood Betty blurted out, "No, stay! Please. I'm glad it's you."

Once she realized what she'd said Betty felt her face grow warm and she mentally swatted herself. Kate relaxed and took her seat once more with a small discreet smile. They spoke idly for a time, their conversation rapidly gaining momentum before Kate paused and seemed to steel herself in order to say something before losing courage.

"Betty…" She started.

"Kate?"

"Well, I just happened to be looking around, and… I mean, it wasn't serious or anything but…" She stopped and rummaged through her handbag, pulling out a neatly folded advertisement and slid it onto the table. Betty took it and read it.

"You're looking to buy a house?"

Kate bit her lip and rambled on, "I guess it's pretty stupid isn't it? I just thought maybe once you're out of here… Well, I thought I could help you buy that house you always wanted."

Betty's eyebrows shot straight up in disbelief at the notion Kate was suggesting, "Kate, you don't owe me anything, I hope this isn't—"

Closing her eyes with a hint of a sardonic smile, Kate shook her head. "Not like that. I just mean… Well, I guess what I'm saying is that I've had time to think on things too, you know." She looked at Betty earnestly, hoping.

"I don't know, Kate. Are you sure it's what you want?" Betty sat back with a dubious look on her face.

"All I ask is one thing," Kate added, and with Betty's questioning gaze she continued, "If it's alright with you, I could help with expenses. That is… I could be your roommate." She smiled nervously and waited for Betty's verdict.

Betty sighed softly and rubbed the back of her neck. She was still due to be locked up for another 5 and some years. Should Kate change her mind it wouldn't make all too much of a difference, she supposed.

"You're on, Andrews."