Things change and friends leave. And life doesn’t stop for anybody. (Stephen Chbosky, The Perks of Being a Wallflower)

My first thought was that Christian had gone dirty while I was gone but, of course, it was me. The look of disappointment in his eyes robbed my heart. They took me away from my new beginning and tacked another dirty chapter onto my old life.

I wasn't allowed to post bail. I was stuck there. I was a prisoner. Everything was dirty and cold and hard. Suddenly all the shit things I had done in my life were manifested into one location and I was made a prisoner of it. I was haunted by my past. Everywhere I went I saw the faces of Nicky, Miami, Martin, Joseph, the hippie, and all the unnamed faces with meth mouths.

Bigger women took my food and pushed me around. Suddenly mediocre didn't seem so bad. Once you get a glimpse of the other side of mediocre you would give anything to drive around a Honda Civic and pay a mortgage.

Tommy had set me up. He had been given a deal. He could get out early if handed me over. I was the kingpin of our operation. Tommy was just the fall guy. I still had the connections, means, and ambition to do it again: to do it bigger, to do it better. I was the dangerous one. Tommy was just a sidekick. I'm not sure when they figured that out. I wonder if anyone was impressed that I was the first female drug lord. No other woman had ever successfully run such a large drug operation. Hell, I must have been ruining a hundred lives a day. The repercussions of the drug empire were bad, I'll admit that, but the money that we drew in was outlandish. It didn't even make sense to me that one person could have so much money. Now I’m in jail. I guess that’s justice. I guess the system works.