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"Has anyone ever tried to escape by hiding in one of the service trucks that deliver things to the prison? I've seen milk trucks and food---"
The words sent a pang through Tracy. "One mother is enough. You don't need two."
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After Amy's afternoon nap, the two of them would take long walks, and Tracy saw to it that they covered areas of the prison grounds she had not seen before. She carefully observed every exit and entrance and how the guard towers were manned and noted when the shifts changed. It became obvious to her that none of the escape plans she had discussed with Ernestine would work.
Amy was looking at her with hurt eyes. "I'm not hungry anymore."
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"No." Get your affection from your own family, Tracy thought. You don't belong to me. Nothing belongs to me.
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"All right. I'll read to you, then."