Megan called Mitch's around nine that night looking for me, but I had stepped out to go get Cynthia and I some pizza and she had told Cynthia to tell me she would try to call back, but might not be able to use the phone again that night.

"Oh great, she's in the fucking joint."

The Voice was probably right, but surprisingly I found myself not that concerned. Right now all that mattered was that in four days I was going to get Max alone and show fate that I was more than worthy of everything it had given me. The Voice had been absolutely right; Max was a...