“When the law fails to serve us, we must serve as the law.” — Kenneth Eade

The dawn fog still lingered over the inner courtyard of the State Penitentiary when Alexander was led through the bars, his wrists marked by the cold steel of the handcuffs. His face twisted in disgust as he saw all the other criminals in their designated cells, before being thrown into his own.

He wasn’t supposed to be there.

Newspapers called it “a premeditated crime.” Prosecutors spoke of “unjustifiable violence.” But no one mentioned the years Alexander fell asleep listening to bones breaking in the room next door. No one told of the times his mother had to stitch her own skin because the ambulance never arrived. No one included in the case file the scars shaped like those fingers she hid under long sleeves even in the summer.

Justice never knocked on that door. No law ever entered his home. So Alexander did.

But to the court, none of that mattered.

The door slammed shut behind him with a horrible crash. It wasn’t the official solitary wing; it was worse. It was an abandoned maintenance room, hastily adapted because overcrowding had become a problem. Alexander had been dragged there before. Always for the same reason.

In the yard, all he wanted was peace. Ten minutes. Ten damn minutes without the smell of sweat, the shouting, or the idiots teasing the other inmates. But some fool thought it was a good idea to poke the new kid. Once, twice, three times. On the third, the guy’s mouth hit the ground with the speed of a plate falling from a full sink.

Moments later, hands were pinning him down, dragging him away, the whole shift yelling about “aggressive behavior.”

He wasn’t even angry. He just wanted to be alone. And for a few minutes, he managed. He sat on the narrow bed, took a deep breath, let the silence settle through the cell, as if that could help empty a mind always too full.

Until footsteps echoed in the corridor. Heavy, irritated. The lock turned, and the guard shoved another figure inside. “New problem for you, Lee. Nowhere else to put this one. Deal with it.” The door closed before he could respond.

The miserable thing didn’t even stay on its feet, collapsing to its knees after being thrown in so roughly.

His peace, until then, was over.