Levin slipped into the chair next to Joe’s. “It’s quiet tonight,” he said, looking around the mess hall. “It must be brutal out there these days.”
Joe was too exhausted for words. He just wanted to eat this food, whatever it was, and go back to his cell. He didn’t know if I could even stay awake through the meal. He looked up to see Dubois coming with his plate. Joe watched the guards―what would they do this time? But they were too engrossed in their conversation, and unmolested, Dubois made it to their table. He sat across from Joe. His cheeks were splotched pink and his eyes were glazed with fever. He wasn’t well.
How long could he endure this? Every night, Dubois fell asleep shivering and coughing.
“How you holding up out there, Ginger?” Since the news of Vascali’s arrest, Levin’s at
