There was no laughter.
No crowd behind her.
Tasha held something in her hand.
A donut.
She placed it quietly beside Maya.
Maya looked at it, then at her.
Tasha cleared her throat.
“I guess I owe you one.”
Maya almost smiled.
“Keep it.”
Tasha stared at her for a second before asking the question that had apparently been bothering her all night.
“If you knew you could handle me, why did you let me mess with you for days?”
Maya leaned back against the wall.
“Because knowing how to fight and wanting to fight are two different things.”
Tasha said nothing.
Maya looked toward the yard.
“I learned that lesson the expensive way.”
For the first time since Maya had arrived, Tasha didn’t have a clever answer.
She simply nodded and walked away.
And after that day, nobody in the prison made the mistake of confusing Maya’s silence with weakness again.
