“Who’s Mia?” I asked, picking up the plastic fork.“Oh yes, Mia Miles, of course.” she explained, “But let’s talk about you.” she diver...ed, and looked around the cell thoughtfully.“Me?” I retorted, thinking any thoughts about me couldn’t be good. “I’d rather not.”“You certainly seem to be in a dismal place.” she noted, “Whatever do you do with your time?” she asked, stepping around in a tight circle, inspecting my accommodations“Oh” I sighed, “Read, run laps, push-ups, and stuff.” trying to talk. The sun would be coming up soon, and tomorrow was going to be a scorcher for sure. Brenda's fingers were getting so numb now she couldn't even feel them, and her arms were beginning to get that tingling 'itchy' feeling one gets when they start to fall asleep. "I wonder what would happen if I hung here until all the blood was drained frommy arms. Would the circulation come back, or would a surgeon have to cut them off?"That was a morbid thought: Brenda Zavala, forced to live the rest of her life. More

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