Which meant . . . what? They were going to kick her ass? Kill her?
She scrubbed vigorously, ignoring Meyers-Lopez’s hateful stare. It made perfect sense. Not only had Ali constructed a foolproof plan to get them convicted—Spencer was pretty sure Ali had paid off some of the jurors—but she’d also planted some Ali Cats inside the prison to make sure the next few decades of Spencer’s life were miserable. And were the Ali Cats communicating with Ali, too, on the outside? Could that, in some way, prove Ali was alive? Yeah, right, she thought as the dirty water lapped against the bottom of the sink. She’d never be able to prove it. Ali and her minions were way smarter than that.
She took the sponge into one of the stalls. The door banged shortly after, and when Spencer emerged from the stall, the bathroom was empty. She smiled, feeling like she’d won a tiny victory. Meyers-Lopez must have gotten tired of Spencer and left.
She walked over to the bucket, but when she plunged the sponge into the water, her fingers hit something slimy and firm. She wheeled back. Something black floated on top of the water. Then she noticed a tiny paw, a whisker, a snout. Spencer screamed. It was a dead rat.
“Oh my God, oh my God,” she said, staring at her outstretched hand. She’d just touched a dead rat. She’d just touched a dead rat. She was probably going to get the plague. From somewhere in the hall, she swore she could hear Meyers-Lopez laughing.
“Hastings?”
Spencer whipped around. Burroughs, the guard who’d showed them in yesterday, now stood in the doorway. For a moment, Spencer thought she was going to blame her for the dead rat. “I need you to come with me,” the guard grumbled.
“F-for what?” Spencer dared to ask.
The lines in Burroughs’s forehead furrowed even deeper. “Your lawyer’s here, okay? And he wants to talk to you.”
Spencer stared at her. Her lawyer? What could Rubens possibly have to say? Was he ready to appeal already?
“Well, come on!” Burroughs bellowed.
Head down, Spencer hurried out of the bathroom to Burroughs’s side. They walked down a series of hallways until they got to the rooms where prisoners met with their attorneys. Burroughs unlocked the last door on the right and pushed it open. Rubens was standing, facing the barred window. Aria and Hanna were sitting at the table, looking just about as shell-shocked as Spencer was.
Spencer gazed between all of them. “What’s going on?” she asked, feeling circumspect.
Rubens’s expression was hard to read. He clasped his hands together. “You girls are coming with me.”
Spencer frowned. “Where?”
“To the courthouse.”
Hanna looked worried. “Why?”
Rubens glanced back and forth worriedly. A couple of inmates loitered outside, trying to look busy. “I can’t get into it here,” he said cagily. “You just need to come, okay? Now.”
A series of guards shoved them down the hallway past the cafeteria and to the double doors that led to the outside. Spencer huddled close to her friends, thrilled to see them again, even if it was for something so mysterious. “What do you think is happening?” she whispered.
“Maybe we’re being moved,” Aria said. Her expression darkened. “God, I bet that’s it. We’re being moved to somewhere even worse.”
Hanna swallowed hard. “There can’t be anywhere worse than this. They have me working in the cafeteria with this woman who has already decided she hates me. She trapped me in the walk-in refrigerator twice.” She looked around, as though the woman was listening. “And then, when I came out? She made fun of my cold, pointy nipples. She made everyone in the kitchen look at them.”
Aria squeezed Hanna’s hand. “I’m in laundry, and I think one of the other girls replaced the water in my bottle with bleach yesterday. Thank God I didn’t drink it.”
Spencer swallowed hard, thinking about her experience with the rat. “Did those women mention Ali?”
Aria’s eyes widened. “The girl I met in orientation did.”
“The kitchen bitch didn’t, but I think my cellmate knows about Ali,” Hanna whispered. She glanced back at the prison doors. “She looks totally normal, and she’s new like us, but she has an A tattoo on the inside of her wrist and she already knew my name.”
Aria’s eyes widened. “I might have met the same girl. She’s definitely an Ali Cat.”
Hanna shut her eyes and moaned. “Did you know she’s a knitter? She can legally have knitting needles in her bunk. I was so afraid last night that I was going to . . .” She made a stabbing motion with her arm.
Burroughs wheeled around and glared at them. “No talking!”
They were outdoors by then. The sun on Spencer’s face felt delicious, but she couldn’t relish it for very long because the guards were shoving them into a waiting van. Hanna and Aria tumbled in after her, and the same guy who’d escorted them to the prison manned the front seat. Rubens climbed into the passenger side. Spencer stared at the back of his head, trying to figure out what the hell was going on. What was so important that they were being led back to the courthouse? Was the jury going to sentence them to immediate death?
After a long, almost intolerable silence, the courthouse appeared on the hill. The van rattled into the parking lot and pulled up to the curb. Spencer peered out the window. “Why are there press people here?” she asked.
The lawyer jumped out of his seat and slid open the doors. “Let’s go,” he said roughly.