“I don’t want a nigger in my cell,” Garza said as he gave Carter a dirty look.

Carter nodded and gave Garza a small smirk just to piss him off more.

“It is what it is, Garza. He’s your cellmate. Step in,” the CO said as he stepped to the side, clearing the way for Carter.

Carter stepped in and placed his things on the top bunk. Moments later, the guard yelled for the cell to be closed and the door slid shut, leaving Garza and Carter alone in the small room.

“Don’t get comfortable. You won’t be in here for too long,” Garza said as he sat back on his bed and focused on his book.

Carter hopped on his bunk and ignored Garza’s comment, not wanting to make any enemies so soon. He smirked and shook his head, knowing that Garza didn’t realize whom he was talking to, or the power that Carter had. But the truth was that Carter didn’t realize the power and connections that Garza possessed.

Robyn walked into the crowded courthouse. Her expensive pencil skirt and matching cropped jacket with ruffle top gave her a professional appearance that allowed her to blend in with the lawyers and officials that filled the building. She smiled at the security guard at the entrance as she placed her briefcase on the conveyor belt and then stepped through the metal detector. With her Hermès briefcase in hand and a cardboard tray of Starbucks in the other, she seamlessly bypassed security. Her five-inch heels click clacked across the wooden floor, her step so precise that one would think she was on a runway. She slipped into courtroom A. She peeked at the schedule and noticed that the next trial would not take place for another hour. It was more than enough time to handle her business and disappear.

Just as she suspected, the stenographer was a light-skinned young woman with cute features. The presiding judge had a thing for young black girls. Robyn walked inside and smiled humbly at the girl