The girlsitting next to me elbowed me in the ribs and laughed. "Lucky cunt!"she said. I didn't feel lucky at all. I felt like my whole world, myentire life, was ruined and there was no way out of that nightmare.*** *** ***After I got back to the jail they took me to see two social workers.They kept asking me questions about me, my life, what got me intotrouble, and other such stupid stuff. And they kept repeating the samequestion: was there anything I wanted to tell them. I stayed quiet anddidn't answer. The way they talked it was like I was going to be injail a long time, but I thought that I'd be getting out. But by thattime I found it hard to care one way or another. I felt so alone, andabandoned, and I just wanted to crawl into a deep, dark hole, close myeyes and never wake up again.Finally, on Tuesday morning, the cops came and took me out of the cellsarea and back to the front part of the jail where I'd been fingerprintedand photographed. They told me that the charges. .. about how they would be doing it. Then, she couldn't stand any more of it. There was one way to find out... Retrieving the doubt-producing scrap of paper from Jay's desk, she dialed the telephone number, realizing as she did that it was an out-of-area prefix. She let it ring five times. There was no answer. She hung up and looked up the prefix in the telephone directory, discovering that it was a number in Corona del Mar. All the way down there... ?Five minutes later, she dialed, again."Hello... ?" It was a woman's voice, cautious and a little hesitant.I hope I can pull this off! "Hello..." Betty said, "this is Mr. Ballard's secretary... I have an urgent message for him!" He's not here!" Are you Miss... Carla Reynolds... ?" Betty asked. "He had some kind of appointment with you... I believe..." Yes... I'm Carla! He was here... but he's gone now! Sorry... I can't help you..." She was brisk, anxious to end the conversation."Then... he did get to interview you... ?"Carla's laugh was.
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