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Tracy heard the warden's voice: The best advice l can give you is to try to do easy time....
The black woman continued. "I'm Ernestine Littlechap." She nodded toward the woman with the long scar. "Tha's Lola. She's from Puerto Rico, and fatso here is Paulita,[link widoczny dla zalogowanych], from Mexico. Who are you?"
"I'm--- I'm Tracy Whitney." She had almost said, "I was Tracy Whitney." She had the nightmarish feeling that her identity was slipping away. A spasm of nausea swept through her,[link widoczny dla zalogowanych], and she gripped the edge of the bunk to steady herself.
"Where you come from, honey?" the fat woman asked.
"I'm sorry, I--- I don't feel like talking." She suddenly felt too weak to stand. She slumped down on the edge of the filthy bunk and wiped the beads of cold perspiration from her face with her skirt. My baby,[link widoczny dla zalogowanych], she thought. I should have told the warden I'm going to have a baby. He'll move me into a clean cell. Perhaps they'll even let me have a cell by myself.
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"You don't understand. I'm---"
The matron was gone.
Tracy crammed her knuckles in her mouth to keep from screaming.