As Myles approached the five building complex, each with three floors of units Chance marveled at the idea of freedom.
“Dad, this is really apartments?” He asked as he hung his head out of the window taking in the views.
Myles chuckled, “basically yes, however there are some things we will discuss once inside of your unit.”
Freedom felt surreal. He was close, but still so far. The air seemed fresher, the trees swayed in the light wind, everything seemed to illuminate under a soft glow.
Being inside the center, seeing only what the staff allowed him to see, heightened the very awe of this moment.
Myles parked in front of building four. “You ready son?”
Chance looked at his father, mind racing, heart beats increasing its rhythm.
“Yeah. Let’s go,” he said excitedly.
Myles unlocked unit 420, second floor. Chance walked in and his jaw dropped in awe.
This wasn’t some halfway house setup.
The floor plan consisted of a dining area to his left, living room to his right. He stared ahead at a full kitchen, not a kitchenette.
There was a hallway. A real hallway, one that didn’t scream sterile institution.
“You did all this for me?”
Chance had to ask. He was expecting something like a studio, with a mattress on the floor, surrounded by more off white walls. This was beyond his imagination.
“Welcome to your first step in coming home son.”
Chance stood there for a moment, unsure if he should laugh, cry, or run through every room like a kid on Christmas morning.
“Home…” he repeated quietly, testing the word on his tongue.
It felt strange.
Foreign.
Like a language he used to know but had forgotten how to speak. He stepped further into the apartment, taking everything in slowly. The couch looked soft enough to swallow you whole. The kitchen gleamed under the soft lighting above the island. Even the air smelled different. Cleaner.
Lighter.
“Jesus…” Chance muttered, shaking his head as he walked toward the kitchen.
He opened the pantry door.
His eyebrows shot up.
“Dad… this thing is stocked.”
Myles leaned against the wall, watching him with a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.
“Well,” he said casually, “you gotta eat.”
Chance chuckled under his breath and closed the pantry door slowly.
Then he walked toward the hallway.
The bedroom stopped him in his tracks.
A king-sized bed sat centered against the wall. Navy bedding. Dark wood furniture. A dresser, a nightstand, a chair in the corner like someone expected him to actually sit down and relax.
Chance walked to the balcony doors and pushed them open.
Fresh air rushed in.
He stepped outside and gripped the railing, looking out across the complex.
Freedom.
Real freedom.
No locked doors.
No staff watching every move.
Just space.
Behind him, Myles leaned against the doorframe.
“Enjoy it,” he said.
Chance nodded, still staring out at the trees swaying in the distance.
“Oh, I am.”
Myles pushed off the doorframe.
“Good.”
His tone shifted slightly.
Chance noticed the shift, but said nothing.
He noticed the in-suite bathroom, equipped with a bathtub and a shower, not a combo. That made him smile, along with the walk in closet attached.
“But before you get too comfortable,” Myles continued, “we need to talk about the rules.”
Chance let out a slow breath.
Of course there were rules.
He turned around.
“What kind of rules?”
Myles folded his arms.
“The kind that keep you from ever going back to that center again.”
Silence hung between them.
Chance nodded slowly.
“Alright,” he said.
“Let’s hear them.”
“Of course there are those outlined in the contract.” Myles began.
“The curfew is strict, 10 pm no later, no exceptions.”
Chance looked around again, he didn’t notice cameras.
At least, none visible to him.
Myles chucked lowly, “no son there aren’t any cameras, but everything is operated electronically here.”
Chance’s brow furrowed.
“Let me explain. You don’t have a normal key to open the door, you have an electronic entry device.”
Chance looked at the door, he didn’t notice before.
“It alerts the front office, staff, and Dr. Sylvie each time you enter and the time.”
There it was.
Control.
“Should you attempt to enter after ten, the device won’t allow entry.”
“So I’m stuck outside?”
“No son, there are Resident Assistants in each building. You will have to reach out to your assigned RA to be let in.”
Just like that, the freedom felt sterile.
Anger and confusion settled in.
Chance stood against the frame of the bathroom door, arms folded, brows furrowed.
“So I’m free,” he said slowly, “but I’m not.”
Myles scratched his temple.
“You’re free son, look around you. No room mate, no one breathing down your throat, but what you will have…is structure.”
Chance listened, his gaze drifting around the room.
“Work the program, and your home free. Yes, you have access to the world, with limits.”
That word didn’t settle his thoughts.
He never liked limits.
They proved weakness.
Chance scoffed.
“What’s limited freedom dad?”
Myles sighed.
“The freedom that earns your life back son. It’s either this… or your old accommodations, and not the center.”
Chance looked around again.
No bars.
No guards.
No metal toilets.
No metal bunk.
Just space.
“I’ll make it work.”
Myles nodded.
“Glad we’re on the same page. Just remember… the restraining order is still in place.”
“I know dad.”
A pause as he took a deep breath.
“I’ve got it.”
Myles hugged his son and exited the apartment with high hopes.
Paige awoke to the smell of breakfast permeating her room. She hadn’t remembered the last time this smell tickled her senses.
As she grabbed her robe to make her way to the kitchen, she heard a soft knock at the door.
“Amore?”
“Yes, dad?”
“Breakfast is almost done sleepy head, come join us.”
Us?
She paused.
Before she turned in for bed the tension between her parents were thick. Now.. family breakfast?
The scent of fresh salsa and the aroma of onions drew her in.
On the table she found eggs, fried tortillas chips, freshly grated cheese, & cream cheese.
Her stomach growled.
“What’s all this?”
Michal smiled.
“I figured I’d help your mom out this morning.”
“We haven’t had Chilaquiles in years!”
Page was so excited, she began to dig in instantly.
“Slow down Paige.”
Patience chuckled.
“Mom, why don’t you do these on the regular.”
“Don’t give her my credit, Amore.”
Michal laughed.
“Dad, you burned.”
Patience almost lost her juice.
“Michal that’s youngster lingo for it’s good.”
“I’m not that old,” he laughed, “I definitely burned.”
Paige lost it.
She laughed hysterically.
“Dad, never use that terminology again.”
This lightness.
The laughter.
The unity.
This happiness.
She hadn’t seen this in a while, her mothers laughed seemed louder, her dad seemed content. This was what life was supposed to be.
She hoped like hell it wouldn’t fade.
Dr.Sylvie sat at his desk updating patient notes.
When he reached Chance’s file, a slight smirk settled across his face.
He pulled open the bottom drawer, retrieved that small black bag and the cell phone inside.
He looked around his office, making sure no one was watching.
He dialed.
The line rang once.
“Yeah.”
The voice on the receiving end answered.
“It’s done,” Dr. Sylvie spoke calmly, “the next phase begins now.”
“Good.”
The voice disconnected.
Sylvie placed the phone back where it belonged. Then he reached into his jacket, grabbed a pill bottle, opened it, and swallowed one without water.
The cap clicked shut and before he slid it back in his pocket.
“This is where it gets good,” he murmured as he scribbled note after note in Chance’s file.
He picked up the desk phone.
“Yes Dr.Sylvie,” his receptionist asked.
“Set up an appointment with Mr. Breaud.” Sylvie said . “Post-release follow-up. Make it as soon as possible.”
“Yes sir.” The receptionist responded.
He leaned back in his chair.
Sylvie knew Chance was near the brink of unraveling once he found out how the strict curfew and supervision really were.
He had to see him face to face.
It was the only sure way to commence the next phase.
Serenity and Bentley spent the night talking.
Really talking.
She addressed things she hadn’t really been able to speak out loud with anyone else.
Yes, she had Paige, and if anyone would understand it would be her, but she also knew Paige was dealing with her own battles right now.She didn’t want to add on any more weight to a load that was heavy enough.
“Bentley, I appreciate tonight,” Serenity said softly,” the walls were caving in on me at home.”
Bentley glanced over at her.
“I’m glad I could help,” he said. “And I’m sorry for being intrusive earlier . That wasn’t my intent.”
She leaned her head back against the headrest.
“Yeah, I don’t really care for the pop ups.”
Bentley nodded.
“Won’t happen again.”
Serenity glanced at the clock on the dashboard.
“It’s getting really late.”
Bentley followed her gaze. “Damn, I didn’t notice it was this late, I’ll get you back now.”
The clock read 12:45 am as Bentley pulled away into the quiet night to return to the yard where he had first found Serenity in chaos.
Serenity gazed out of the window as streetlights blurred by them one after another.
The quiet allowed reality to creep back in. The memory of what she had fled from earlier began pressing against her thoughts.
Tears welled in her eyes.
She wiped them away quickly praying Bentley hadn’t noticed.
As Bentley turned into her neighborhood, the peace she found during their conversation slowly began to fade.
When he pulled into the driveway, she noticed the house was completely dark.
Maybe the return home would be an easy one.
She exhaled.
“Thanks again Bentley.” She said while opening the door.
“No thanks needed.” He said calmly. “Text me later if your up to it.”
He hoped that she would be.
Serenity walked inside, quietly.
It wasn’t until she passed the great room that she heard movement.
“Serenity.”
Her father.
In that moment, she knew the night wasn’t over. There would be more words spoken.
“I thought you’d be asleep, Dad.”
“I’m wide awake… daughter.”
He never called her that.
Serenity noticed the shift in his energy immediately.
He was upset.
“I don’t like the way you left here tonight, Serenity.”
There it was.
No hesitation.
No soft landing.
“I didn’t plan for it to happen that way,” she explained. It was the truth.
“Who is that boy?”
Serenity blinked.
“Really, Dad? Out of everything that happened here tonight, that’s what you’re worried about?”
“Who is he?”
Jhaylen’s tone sharpened.
The calm he usually carried was slipping.
“He’s a friend, Daddy.”
“You called him here?”
Serenity paused, folding her arms, her brows pulling together.
“No, I didn’t. But what would that have changed?” she asked.
“Would that have changed anything you and Mom have been hiding and lying about?”
Silence.
The truth had landed.
The logic behind it stung.
“Serenity,” Jhaylen said, his voice tightening, “you should’ve stayed here and worked things out with us. Your family.”
Her jaw dropped.
Then she laughed.
A hollow laugh.
“Family?”
She lost it.
Emotion flooded her voice as tears began to fall.
“Family doesn’t lie. Family doesn’t keep secrets for years!”
Her voice echoed through the house.
Syn heard the pain in her daughter’s voice and immediately jumped out of bed. That long, relaxing bath had done its job, but clearly the night wasn’t finished with her yet.
She rushed toward the great room, robe half wrapped, hair slightly disheveled.
“What is going on?” she asked.
“Your daughter just came strolling in here at one in the morning after storming out with that boy.”
Jhaylen’s voice carried frustration, but underneath it was something deeper.
Hurt.
Confusion.
The kind that comes from watching the people you love slip through your fingers.
Syn turned her gaze to Serenity.
“You’re just getting home?” she asked calmly.
“Yes. I didn’t realize how late it was.”
Syn shifted her attention back to Jhaylen.
“J… she’s not our baby anymore. She’s a young adult.”
He paused.
“I get that, but—”
“No buts, J,” Syn interrupted softly. “A lot has happened today. Let’s table this conversation until tomorrow.”
Jhaylen exhaled.
“Yeah… aight.”
He walked out toward the backyard, the door sliding shut behind him.
Serenity wiped the tears from her face as she turned and walked down the hallway toward her bedroom.
Syn remained standing in the great room.
Still.
Silent.
Staring into the space her family once filled so easily.
Chance sat on the balcony, taking in the scenery, the fresh air… the freedom.
For a moment, it almost felt real.
Then he heard it.
A faint buzzing.
He turned toward the bedroom, scanning the room.
The sound grew louder.
On the dresser, Myles had left a cell phone.
Chance walked over and picked up the device.
It was ringing.
555-555-4321 flashed across the screen.
He tapped the green icon.
“Hello?”
“This is the receptionist for Dr. Sylvie,” the woman said. “I’m calling to schedule your post-release follow-up appointment.”
Chance frowned.
“I’m sorry… how’d you get this number? Actually, better question… what number did you dial to reach me?”
He was still trying to figure out how anyone knew to call that phone.
“Your father left the number with Dr. Sylvie,” she explained.
Chance made a mental note of that.
“Would tomorrow work for you, 11am?” she asked.
Chance scratched the back of his neck.
“I guess that depends on whether my dad can bring me.”
The receptionist chuckled lightly.
“No need. Dr. Sylvie will be coming to you.”
A pause.
“Unit 420, correct?”
And just like that, it hit him.
The supervision.
The monitoring.
The rules.
Freedom… was clearly limited.
“Yeah,” Chance muttered. “Cool.”
He ended the call.
Then tossed the phone onto the bed.
“This some bullshit,” he said aloud.
Chance stepped back out on the balcony.
The air still seemed fresh.
But the freedom definitely wasn’t free.
Kae Jaye The Writer 