Chapter 2 - THE NAME IN THE FILEDerek barely slept.
Every sound seemed louder after midnight.
Shoes scraping concrete.
A toilet flushing two cells down.
Someone coughing.
A distant door slamming.
Usually Derek liked nighttime at Graystone because darkness reminded him that everyone else was trapped too.
That night, it reminded him there were things happening around him he didn't understand.
And Derek hated not understanding.
At breakfast, Walter Mercer sat alone again.
Except something had changed.
A fresh towel had been folded beside Walter's tray.
A carton of milk sat unopened beside his coffee.
Someone had given him an extra banana.
Nobody admitted doing it.
Derek entered the cafeteria expecting whispers.
Instead, people became quiet.
Not afraid.
Disgusted.
He felt it immediately.
Mason was already seated.
Derek dropped his tray across from him.
"Tell me."
Mason focused on his oatmeal.
"Tell you what?"
"Mercer."
Mason sighed.
"Forget it."
"I dumped water on him. Nobody died."
"You really don't know?"
"That's what I've been saying."
Mason looked around before leaning forward.
"You ever hear about the Ashbury hearings?"
Derek frowned.
"No."
"Federal prison corruption hearings. About twelve years ago."
"So?"
"Mercer testified."
Derek laughed once.
"He's a rat?"
Mason's expression didn't change.
"Not against inmates."
The laugh disappeared.
Mason continued.
"Graystone used to be worse. Way worse. Guards running protection schemes. Medical requests disappearing. People getting thrown into segregation for complaining. Food contracts stealing money. Guys getting beaten and nobody investigating."
Derek glanced toward Walter.
"What's that got to do with him?"
"Everything."
Walter Mercer had not always been a prisoner.
For thirty-two years, he had worked for the Federal Bureau of Prisons.
First as a teacher.
Then as a case manager.
Later as an inspector.
He had spent years documenting abuse inside several federal institutions, including Graystone.
He collected medical records.
Maintenance reports.
Witness statements.
Hidden payroll documents.
When supervisors ordered him to destroy evidence, he made copies instead.
When they threatened his pension, he kept going.
Eventually he testified before a congressional committee and handed investigators enough evidence to remove seventeen officials.
Graystone's old warden went to prison.
Three abusive officers were convicted.
Medical procedures changed nationwide.
Families received settlements.
Segregation policies were rewritten.
Derek listened without moving.
"You're telling me everyone loves him because he used to work here?"
"No."
Mason stirred his oatmeal.
"They respect him because he came back."
"Why is he in prison?"
Mason looked up.
"That's the part nobody understands."
Derek found Victor Ortiz in the recreation yard after lunch.
Ortiz was doing pull-ups.
"Talk to me."
Ortiz dropped from the bar.
"About what?"
"Mercer."
"No."
Derek blocked his path.
"You afraid of some seventy-year-old?"
Ortiz smiled.
"No. I'm afraid of becoming the kind of idiot who mistakes kindness for weakness."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
Ortiz wiped sweat from his forehead.
"My brother Luis was here fourteen years ago."
Derek knew Ortiz had a brother but had never heard details.
"Luis had appendicitis. Medical ignored him for three days. Guards thought he was faking."
Ortiz's expression tightened.
"Mercer found him collapsed in a hallway. Called an ambulance even after a captain told him not to. Captain threatened to fire him."
Derek said nothing.
"My brother survived because Walter refused an order."
Ortiz stepped closer.
"So yeah. When he came back through these gates wearing orange, some of us remembered."
"Why's he here?"
"Ask him."
So Derek did.
That afternoon Walter sat in the library reading a battered copy of East of Eden.
Derek pulled out the chair opposite him.
Walter didn't look up.
"You worked here."
"I worked in many places."
"You got guards arrested."
Walter turned a page.
"Some arrested themselves through their choices."
"Why are you here?"
Walter finally raised his eyes.
"Curiosity can be healthy, Mr. Sloan. Entitlement usually isn't."
Derek hated that he knew his name.
"Everybody acts like you're some saint."
"I'm not."
"Then what did you do?"
Walter closed the book.
"Something foolish."
"What?"
"I trusted the wrong person."
That answer irritated Derek more than silence.
"You afraid to tell me?"
"No."
"Then tell me."
Walter leaned back.
"Why?"
Derek had no answer that didn't sound childish.
Because I need to know.
Because everyone knows something I don't.
Because yesterday I tried to humiliate you, and somehow I humiliated myself.
Walter studied him for several seconds.
"You poured water on me because you believed respect could be taken."
"So?"
"So now you're searching for information because you think knowledge can restore what you lost."
Derek's jaw tightened.
"You talk like a therapist."
"I taught literacy classes for twelve years. You learn to recognize people avoiding the real sentence."
"And what's my real sentence?"
Walter leaned forward.
"You're afraid someone here might discover you're ordinary."
Derek's chair scraped backward.
Several inmates looked over.
Walter reopened his book.
Derek wanted to flip the table.
Instead he walked out.
That evening Officer Pike pulled Derek into a maintenance corridor.
"What have you been asking?"
"Nothing."
"Don't lie."
Derek stared at him.
Pike looked nervous.
That was unusual.
"You need to stop digging into Mercer."
"Why?"
"Because some files are closed for a reason."
Derek smiled slowly.
"Now I'm definitely interested."
Pike grabbed his arm.
"Listen to me."
Derek looked at the hand.
Pike released him.
"Walter Mercer wasn't supposed to end up here."
"What does that mean?"
"It means paperwork disappeared. Evidence changed. And the people responsible don't want anyone looking backward."
Derek's smile vanished.
"You know who?"
Pike glanced toward the security camera.
Then he whispered something Derek never expected.
"One of them still works inside this prison."
Before Derek could ask more, the corridor door opened.
Deputy Warden Calvin Rusk stepped inside.
Tall.
Gray suit.
Perfect tie.
Cold eyes.
He looked at Pike.
Then at Derek.
"Everything all right?"
Pike went pale.
"Yes, sir."
Rusk smiled.
"Excellent."
His gaze settled on Derek.
"Mr. Sloan, I hear you've taken an interest in our newest elderly resident."
Derek said nothing.
Rusk's smile widened slightly.
"I'd advise against it."
May you like
And suddenly Derek understood.
Whatever had brought Walter Mercer back to Graystone wasn't finished.
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