Statesville Prison, PA, 2002:
("We had nothing, Lindsay.")
("You're lying!")
("You disgust me.")
("You loved me. I know you did. I felt it. I FELT IT!")
Gasping, Lindsay awoke and sat up in the bunk, her brow gleaming with a fine sheen of perspiration. Would she ever find peace? She took a few raggedy breaths and concentrated on slowing her pounding heartbeat, leaning her fevered head against the cool, cement walls of the cell.
("Find a reason to stay alive, Rappaport. I've never seen anyone make it through here without one.")
"Listen to me, Lindsay. You?re down, but not out. Not by a long shot."
Her words reverberated in the sterile quarters and fortified her resilience. In the past, she had been vulnerable. Weak. She had let her guard down. With Colin. With Troy.
It would never happen again.
Lindsay raised her hand and placed it protectively over her thickening waistline, which would thankfully be camouflaged by the loose, standard-issue prison wear as time went on.
Not that she planned to be in this hellhole much longer.
"Easy now, little one." Gently patting her midriff, Lindsay Rappaport serenely smiled and again took strength, hope and comfort in the life within her. Thoughts of Colin and Troy MacIver dissipated as she concentrated on her plans for the future.
Yes, all would be well.
She could feel it.
