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As though reading her mind, the black woman told her, "You go with the flow,[link widoczny dla zalogowanych], baby."
Tracy heard the warden's voice: The best advice l can give you is to try to do easy time....
The black woman continued. "I'm Ernestine Littlechap." She nodded toward the woman with the long scar. "Tha's Lola. She's from Puerto Rico,[link widoczny dla zalogowanych], and fatso here is Paulita, from Mexico. Who are you?"
"I'm--- I'm Tracy Whitney." She had almost said, "I was Tracy Whitney." She had the nightmarish feeling that her identity was slipping away. A spasm of nausea swept through her,[link widoczny dla zalogowanych], and she gripped the edge of the bunk to steady herself.
"Where you come from,[link widoczny dla zalogowanych],[link widoczny dla zalogowanych], honey?" the fat woman asked.
"I'm sorry,[link widoczny dla zalogowanych], I--- I don't feel like talking." She suddenly felt too weak to stand. She slumped down on the edge of the filthy bunk and wiped the beads of cold perspiration from her face with her skirt. My baby,[link widoczny dla zalogowanych], she thought. I should have told the warden I'm going to have a baby. He'll move me into a clean cell. Perhaps they'll even let me have a cell by myself.
She heard footsteps coming down the corridor. A matron was walking past the cell. Tracy hurried to the cell door. "Excuse me," she said,[link widoczny dla zalogowanych], "I have to see the warden. I'm---"
"I'll send him right down," the matron said over her shoulder.
"You don't understand. I'm---"
The matron was gone.
Tracy crammed her knuckles in her mouth to keep from screaming.