14

I spent the wee hours of that morning preparing for my incarceration. Packing up my meager belongings took a surprisingly short amount of time. Since my apartment had come furnished, the only things that were mine were clothes, dishes, and my collection of well-worn books.

Sitting down at the rickety kitchen table, I wrote a long letter to my Nana. I knew that I wouldn’t be brave enough to lie to her face. The truth of what I had done would kill her, so instead, I wrote a long letter about how I needed to get away for a while. I told her that I would be thinking of her and missing her the entire time. That part, at least, was true.

After packing my car with everything I owned, I stopped by the nursing home to deliver the letter. It was early, so Nana was still asleep. I snuck into her room as she quietly snored and pressed a light kiss on her wrinkled cheek. “I love you, Nana, and I’m so sorry,” I whispered near her ear.

The main thing that worried me about my impending, well-deserved jail time was how Nana would take my absence. I silently prayed that someone would look after her and chastised myself for the thousandth time for agreeing to such a stupid plan.

Had I really believed that robbing a bank would be the solution to my financial struggles? Could I plead temporary insanity? That’s the only explanation that made any sense for why I agreed to be a part of this crazy plan.

After leaving the nursing home, I went to Tanya’s apartment and pounded on the door. Her normally spiky, dark hair was standing on end. Mascara streaked down her cheeks in tiny black runways. She was obviously sleep-mussed and had just rolled out of bed, but to her credit, she didn’t yell at me for waking her.

She quietly listened as I relayed the entire story to her from the moment the robbers sat at my table to when I just told my beloved Nana goodbye. It was the longest I’d ever heard her be silent. I must have stunned her because when she did finally attempt to speak, her mouth opened and closed a few times like a carp, but no words emerged.

“I know this is shocking,” I admitted before adding, “and I know I don’t deserve it, but would you please check in on my Nana periodically? It’s not her fault that her granddaughter is an idiot.”

Tanya finally found her voice. “Of course,” she reassured me, and I immediately felt better.

She wasn’t the most reliable person in the world, but we had been working together for several years, and she was the closest thing I had to a good friend. I had to count on her to be true to her word. In our friendship, I was normally the one covering her shift or staying late when she wanted to leave early, but I needed her now.

I could tell by the earnest look that she was giving me that she intended to follow through with her promise. Unable to find the words to properly thank her, I pulled her in for a teary goodbye hug.

“It will be okay,” Tanya promised, and I silently wished that she could somehow be right.