“Wherever I end up after this… in whatever reality… all those moments between us were real, and they’ll always be ours…”

“I’ll always love you… Now, get out of here, please! Do it before I freak. And Max Caulfield? Don’t you forget about me…

“Never.”

…

Forget the horrors here…

August 20, 2018

The first week wasn’t so bad. She spent the better part of a day sitting through company orientation where she watched an old PowerPoint presentation that appeared like it hadn’t been updated in over a decade. It showed irrelevant scenes about policies and procedures that a minuscule and underfunded budget apparently didn’t have the resources to modernize. The onboarding paperwork for the Fresno Herald was a bit tedious and required way too many signatures just to begin a job. As a new photojournalist for the online news source, Max Caulfield sat through over a dozen mandatory training classes for the remaining four days of her work week without even stepping foot in the organization’s office.

Her new boss, Weston, discovered the freckled girl’s photography skills because of an online blog she was keeping while earning her undergraduate degree. Max attended a small community college and majored in general studies. She never really had a drive to do anything besides take photos, but her parents encouraged her to study while she figured out what she wanted to do with her life. Even at the end of her college career, still nothing interested her besides taking pictures and strumming her guitar. She assumed any artistic field wouldn’t bring in enough money for her to make it on her own, so she started a blog while working part-time for her dad.

One day, a couple months after graduation, on a whim, the brunette applied for a full-time gig in Fresno, California. It was a long distance from her parents’ house in Seattle, but it would keep her on the west coast, which was a big plus. She never really saw herself living that far from her family, but it was an opportunity to finally dive head first into a career. She received an email informing her that she was a top candidate and needed to interview to move towards the next step. Circumstances like this one didn’t come along too often, so she called the listed number and immediately took a phone interview. About ten minutes into the conversation, Weston mentioned how impressed he was with her blog and offered Max a position. He emailed her a preemployment info packet so she could mull it over with her folks.

Max and her parents combed through the presented information and researched the company as well as the surrounding area. Everything seemed to be in order, and the salary was acceptable, so the 22-year-old called the man back and accepted the role. One week later, she moved into an apartment her father helped pick out in a decent neighborhood not far from her employer.

“Make some friends quickly, sweetheart,” Ryan concerningly suggested after he and Vanessa helped unload the last of their daughter’s belongings. “Friends look out for one another. We’d feel much better knowing you had at least a few people here concerned about your safety and well being.”

If it were only that easy. At least I’ll meet my coworkers soon. Maybe a friendship or two wouldn’t be too hard. “I’ll be fine, Dad.”

“Remember to take your pills,” Vanessa reminded her daughter. “Two-a-day for certain… One in the morning before breakfast and one after dinner, and you can take one if you feel an attack coming on. If you need a refill just let us know.”

“Thanks, Mom. I got it.” Max pulled the prescription bottle from her satchel and squeezed it between her pointer and thumb. She gently flapped her wrist causing the contents from the small container to audibly rattle.

Ryan and Vanessa spent the first night with their daughter to help ease her transition, but also because of how lengthy the drive was between Fresno and Seattle. That first morning, the threesome enjoyed coffee together, then the older two hit the road. Max could tell it was tough for them leaving her alone in a new city. Numerous times, she assured her parents that she could take care of herself and wasn’t a child anymore. They had always been protective of their only daughter, so it didn’t seem out of character for them to hold on a little too tightly. She was thankful for their help but was eager to begin her life and move forward.

The following week, orientation began and most of the training took place over Zoom where she sat in her apartment in front of her laptop for many hours. Other times, she had to sit in a local hotel’s conference room listening to one presenter after the next until she nearly couldn’t take the boredom anymore.

Max had never traveled to Fresno nor did she know much about the city prior to accepting her photojournalist role, so she decided to drive around town after arranging her apartment the first weekend in the new town. She casually drove through the downtown area and noticed there was a water park, a zoo, a prison, and a museum. The art district seemed nice, and the photographer thought it would be a good place to meet new friends and have some tea or coffee together while enjoying the atmosphere. Max was nervous to put herself out there but made a promise to the girl in the mirror that she wouldn’t be so chickenshit anymore. She was at the beginning of her adult years and intended to act more bold and confident even though she didn’t particularly feel much different.

It felt like she was starting her life, which was something she wanted to do for as long as she could remember. Despite being in her early 20s, Max had an old soul and really just wanted to find her place in the world where she could make a difference with her work. She was lucky Weston found her blog and took a chance on hiring someone with little real-world experience.

Driving back to her apartment, she pulled through a fast-food drive through and took her meal back home. She promised she wouldn’t make a habit out of it, but a burger and some fries were exactly what she wanted. After eating dinner, Max called her parents to check in as she did each day then took a shower. She watched Netflix until she couldn’t hold her eyes open any longer, set the alarm on her phone, and drifted into a deep sleep.

Finally, the new week began. She progressed through her typical morning preparations, grabbed a quick coffee, and then she departed for work. Arriving at the organization’s office suite, Max pulled into the grungy parking lot, which was littered with potholes and uneven cracks, and located a vacant spot. She opened the door to get out of the vehicle, slung her bag over her shoulder, and meandered towards the glass double door entrance after walking up the six cement steps leading to the front of the building. It was officially her second week on the job but her first day at her actual workplace.

As the heavy entrance doors quickly swung shut behind her, she found herself in a large room with cubicles in the center and doors she assumed leading to offices, restrooms, and maybe a kitchen or break room around the perimeter. She scanned the area to gather her bearings, attempting to figure out where she needed to go. A dull murmur bounced around the room that sounded like what Max would consider a usual office environment: the clicking of keyboards, several indiscernible conversations in the distance, the copier warming up, and an occasional phone call.

“Max Caulfield,” a deep, raspy voice called out from across the room. She turned her head and pivoted her body towards the far corner, noticing a man walking in her direction. “How was your week of training? Sorry it’s so damn boring. We have rules and regulations we have to abide by for all new hires.” A laminated name badge was clipped to his khaki pant pocket informing her the man was the one who had hired her. He was at least six feet tall, and she could tell he had a muscular build even though his button-down dress shirt hung loose and untucked except in the spot over his badge pocket.

“Oh, it w-was fine. Not too bad.” The brunette forced a half smile yet feared her anxiety was way too apparent. She realized she was nervously twiddling her interlocked fingers out in front of her torso, and the increased rapidity of her heartbeat made breathing a bit difficult. A panic began to stir within her, so she located the bulge in her bag where her pill bottle resided and took a deep breath. Her resolve was strong, as she wanted to get through this without the additional assistance, so she lowered her hand, attempting to manually calm her distressed mind.

I can do this. I can do this.

“Good. Well, it’s nice to meet you in person. Big fan of your online work.” Weston stuck his hand out and Max obliged. She feared the slight trembling of her arm would be recognized, but her new boss didn’t react as if he noticed. “Follow me for a quick tour then I’ll show you where you’ll be working.” As they turned, her boss placed an open palm on Max’s lower back to help lead her along, which felt a little unnatural and uncomfortable to the girl. Being middle-aged, the man most likely had an old fashioned mentality and the touch was probably innocent. She shrugged it off, assuming it was just his way.

“You’ll find donuts and cheap-ass coffee most every morning. Feel free to grab a bottled water any time you want. The fridge is stocked with ‘em. You can bring your lunch and store it here if you’d like.” The man motioned to the break room as they quickly strolled past. Weston wasn’t taking his time showing the new employee around. It seemed like he wanted to be polite and get Max started off right, but he was super busy and needed to get back to his work. They continued the tour finally coming to a vacant cubicle. There was a marginally crooked sheet of printer paper with her name in big, bold letters taped to the side. “And this is you.”

“Glad you made it, Max,” a new voice welcomed her from across the small walkway on the open side of the cubicle. “The name’s Maria. It’s good…”

“Maria is a damn fine journalist,” Weston interrupted. “I’ll leave you to it. Open the desk drawer, Max, and you’ll find your login credentials. Get settled in and I’ll check on you later.” Before she could say thank you, the man disappeared around the corner and closed the door to his office. Max released a barely discernible sigh then set her bag on the desk and sat down in her new chair. She adjusted the height to a comfortable level and opened the drawer.

“Don’t worry about him,” her new acquaintance suggested, as she approached the cubicle. “Just do a good job and you’ll be fine. You might have to go above and beyond to get ahead, but we all do what we have to do, ya know?” Max nodded and retrieved the piece of paper from her desk. “He told you your first assignment yet?”

“Not y-yet, but I’m ready to dive in.” Max noticed the girl propping up against her desk. She had beautiful, creamy skin and dark experienced eyes. “So, wh-what are you working on?”

“Giiiirl, I’m working on a story about a woman who suffered from amnesia for fifteen years. One day, she just snapped out of it and realized she had an entire family living in another state. It’s the damndest thing. Gonna interview her tomorrow. Maybe you can join us with those camera skills I’ve heard so much about. Show off a little.” Maria bounced her eyebrows up and down then pointed to the screen where Max’s mouse was hovering indicating she should click the login icon.

“Sounds fascinating. I h-hope I get to work with you. That would be swell.”

Dammit, Max! “Swell?” You’re such a dork!

She watched as her new colleague giggled then dramatically spun around and bounced back to her work area. Through warm cheeks and a threatening glaze of warm sweat, Max faced her computer, logged in, and opened her emails for the first time. A welcome message from the Human Resources department was sitting in her inbox. It didn’t contain any new information besides an organizational certificate for completing the first week of training. She printed the document and tacked it to the fuzzy side of her small cubicle.

Sitting at her new desk, Max felt a slight relief from her anxiety for the first time that day.

Okay. I’m okay. This will all become routine after a few days. Maria seems nice. Wonder if she’ll be my friend? Gosh, Max, you even seem desperate in your own head.

The freckled photographer realized she felt parched. All the worrying and uneasiness made her mouth seem arid suddenly, so she stood up, remembering what Weston told her about the water bottles, and made her way to the break room. She realized she was walking rather quickly and slumping downward staring at the floor, so she forced her pace to slow and straightened her posture, feigning a confidence she hoped would help make her feel more comfortable. She opened the refrigerator and obtained the item she came for.

You got what you wanted. Now just walk back to your desk. Nobody is watching you.

Upon returning to her work area, she plopped down in her chair and saw a notification on her desktop. A new email was waiting for her and it was from her boss. She double-clicked the message and it read it.

***

Max,

Checking to make sure you’ve logged in.

Just received an intriguing phone call. Know anyone at the prison? Looks like someone knows you. Come to my office after you’ve settled for your first assignment.

Thanks,

Weston

***

Max had only focused on her future in recent days, so it was a bit strange to look back. She searched her memories and drew a blank. Fresno was a brand-new place to her, and she didn’t think she knew anyone who had been locked away. The brunette hadn’t even made a friend here yet; she certainly didn’t know anybody in prison.

I’m as settled as I’ll ever be, I guess. Time to find out my assignment. Everything will be fine.

The photographer took another deep breath, stood from the seated position, and then picked her bag up from the desk. Using its single strap, she slung the satchel over her head allowing it to rest on her shoulder and the bag to hang by her hip. She began walking towards the far corner office with a stiffened false assertiveness in her step. Her chest was puffed and her head was slightly tilted upward so she could hopefully appear confident and assertive; even though every thought in her head was screaming the opposite.

As she approached, she saw the man through drawn window shades even though the door was closed as if to deter anyone from entering. He was sitting behind his desk with one hand in the air motioning for Max to enter. A phone was cradled between his shoulder and ear, and her boss had his feet propped on the desk, tilted backward in his chair.

“She’s here. I’ll hit you later.” Weston ended the call and laid the phone back in its base, then he stretched an arm out with his palm facing upward. “Max, sit.” The angle of his hand informed Max that he wanted her to take a seat in one of the two button-tufted arm chairs that faced the man’s oversized executive hardwood desk.

“I-I got your email,” the brunette softly spoke. “I don’t know anyone in prison.” Max stepped around and took a seat.

“Someone sure as hell knows you.” Weston responded.

“Who? How?”

“All I know is a prisoner on death row hasn’t spoken to anyone in years. Suddenly you take your role here, and she asks for you by name, exactly one week before her scheduled injection date. She doesn’t even want anyone there but you. What the hell does that mean?” Her boss’s words seemed a bit intense, bordering harsh, yet his inflection was that of excitement.

What the fuck could a prisoner on death row want? Why me?

“What does she w-want?” A strange, overwrought energy prickled through the girl’s extremities because of the uncertainty of her circumstances. She wasn’t sure which made her more tense; being around her boss or knowing she’d have to face an inmate on death row soon.

“Well, think of this, Max. You have an opportunity to make a name for yourself. Most people have to prove their worth to me, one way or another, before getting a shot like this. Whether it’s just a damn coincidence or fluke, or whatever… you’re going to that prison, and you’ll get all the answers to your questions. In the process, our organization gets nice exposure and you get the chance to slide your career to the fast lane. Opportunities like this don’t come around every day for entry-level photojournalists. Hell, maybe this is your destiny.”

“What? Destiny?” At the man’s last word, Max felt a nostalgic energy cascading throughout her body. Abstract thoughts bounced around in her head but she couldn’t quite make sense of the sensation she was experiencing.

“Earth to Max. You in there? Looked like you were a million miles away for a moment.” The man stood and walked around his desk, coming to a stop behind the seat where the photographer was sitting. He placed both hands on the girl’s shoulders and began to gently massage. “I know this is sudden, and I didn’t want to throw you out there just yet. Hell, you were supposed to shadow Maria for months before I was gonna give you your own assignment. But that ain’t in the cards. Gotta just roll with shit sometimes.”

Pulling away and standing, Max quickly twisted around to face the man. “Sounds good. What’s the next st-step? I just go to the prison and take some pictures?” She felt her voice lightly crackle and knew her boss recognized her hesitation.

Relax, Max. Just act more confident.

“Pretty much. Tomorrow, you’ll make your way there and interview the inmate. Typically, your job would just be taking photos. That’s what you were hired to do anyhow. With this assignment, you’ll need to get the girl to open up. There’s much more on the line than simple photos. The state is very interested in what she has to say. Since she asked for you personally, this assignment might be easier than it seems. Just talk to her and see what she has to say.”

“What did she do to end up on death row?” Max took a step back, clearly feeling uncomfortable being in such close proximity with Weston. She noticed he had a musky scent that reminded her a little bit of her dad’s beard oil; and she thought it smelled something like leather and cedar but couldn’t be too sure.

“Her true identity is unknown; they’re calling her Jane, for Jane Doe, I guess. That’s why this is such a high-profile assignment. She was accused of murdering a man, then she just… went silent.” Weston shrugged and turned to walk back towards his desk area. As soon as he sat, he continued. “She wouldn’t confirm who she was or why she did what she did, and there were some inconsistencies with her DNA. They found her holding the gun and ballistics confirmed she pulled the trigger. She refused a lawyer but plead guilty by writing a note on a napkin. Very strange case.”

“Oh my dog! Th-that’s terrible.”

Shit, murder?!

“She asked for ‘Max Caulfield at the Fresno Herald’ saying you are the only one she’ll speak to.” The man used finger quotes while smirking. “Look, kid. I don’t know why she asked for you; it is what it is. I know you’re nervous, but this is a turning point for your life and career. They’ll be talking about it for years. Hell, you might end up famous if you play your cards right.” He chuckled to himself then picked his phone back up and started dialing. “You haven’t had to do anything to earn this but here it is. Just don’t fuck it up, yeah?”

“I don’t th-think I’d like to be famous. Just wanna do a good job. I only hope…”

“That’s what you’ll be doing with this assignment, a good job,” the middle-aged man grumbled, cutting the photographer off. “Anyway, I have a call to make. I’ll email you more details a little later. You’ll be fine, Max.” He propped back up and crossed his legs at the ankles atop his desk. “AYY, Teresa! Got the intel? Very good…”

“Thank you,” she whispered as she backed out of the room and walked down the side aisle back towards her desk. She could feel eyes on her as she approached her cubicle but just ignored them. She recognized that she was the new girl, and a trip to the boss’s office might be somewhat interesting to others.

“Well, shit,” the only other voice Max recognized in the building called out right as she sat back down in her chair. “Got a message that I’ll be on my own with the story now. Would’ve been nice to have you with me, Max.” Maria slid over and sat half-way down on the outer corner of Max’s desk and tilted her head downward in her direction.

“Y-yeah. Looks like I’m headed to the prison tomorrow.”

“If it wasn’t your first gig, I’d insist you do both. Gotta multitask, girl.” Her new acquaintance smiled then hopped down to her feet.

Placing a hand on Max’s shoulder, the reporter looked left then right, and then aligned their eyes so they were locked on one another. She inched her face in closer as if she was about to whisper a secret, placing her lips near Max’s ear. “You should probably do some research the rest of today. One of the worst feelings I’ve ever had during my career came when I was underprepared for an assignment. This time, my advice is free. Next time, I’ll charge you.” She spun around like a ballerina and disappeared around the corner giggling in the distance.

I really like her. Dad would be proud if we become friends.

Max proceeded to log in to her computer with the intention of research like her peer suggested, Googling Central California Women‘s Prison to get familiar with the institution. She learned about its history and that this would only be the second time they’d put someone to death. She wasn’t sure what she believed about capital punishment but she knew in her heart it felt wrong. That uneasy feeling caused her mind to jump back to the prisoner herself.

After several minutes, she located information about the case and began to read about the incident. There were no photos online of the prisoner, but the story made national headlines at the time. Max was too busy with school during the last few years and wasn’t aware of many news stories. She figured that would have to change in her new role since news and current events would soon become her life.

Max discovered that a growing number of protests had formed around this case calling for true justice to be served as well as reformation of the system. They believed that the eye for an eye mentality was barbaric and outdated, and people should focus on transformation, grace, and redemption rather than taking away another human life. The National Coalition for Death Penalty Abolishment was funding most of the rallies and protest events leading up to what they were calling “Death Day.” Weston was right, this was going to be a high profile experience for her and she hoped she’d be up for the task.

As additional details emerged, her eyes widened and her heart sank. Her breathing hitched when she discovered where the murder took place. The room began spinning and Max had to take her hand off the mouse and grip the edge of her desk in an attempt to regain control. The prisoner, who wasn’t even twenty years old when it happened, pulled the trigger, killing a man, in Max’s hometown of Arcadia Bay.

She quickly located her pills and forced one down her dry throat.