The Verdict
The meeting was short. Too short.
Jayden sat cuffed in the director's office, his ribs still aching from the fight, his lip swollen. Across the desk sat the director, a caseworker, and his probation officer. Their voices were clipped, efficient, like they were deciding paperwork — not a life.
"Multiple infractions. Violence escalating. Possession of contraband," the director recited like reading from a script. He didn't even look at Jayden, not really. Just the file. Always the file.
The probation officer cleared his throat. "The board recommends transfer to max security within the next month. Pending final approval."
The words hit Jayden like a door slamming shut. Max. The place Dre whispered about in the dark. A place where boys disappeared, swallowed by rules harsher than this, where fire either went out or burned you alive.
---
The Walk Back
The guards dragged him back to the block. Kids whispered as he passed, eyes wide.
"Scrap's done."
"Max'll eat him."
"He won't last."
Spider smirked from the corner. Rico grinned through his bruises. Even Knox's crew looked satisfied, like the story had already been written.
Jayden kept his head high, but inside the fire twisted with fear. For the first time, he wasn't sure if he could survive what was coming.
---
Dre's Confrontation
That night, Dre's voice came hard through the bars. No calm, no softness. Just steel.
"You gonna let them ship you, Jay? Just let them decide your whole damn life?"
Jayden's voice cracked. "What choice do I have? Every move I make, they twist it. Every fight, every setup, it don't matter. They've already decided who I am."
Silence pressed heavy before Dre answered. "Then make them wrong. You hear me? Make them wrong. You've got more fire than anyone in here. But if you don't learn to aim it, it'll burn you and no one will even remember your name."
Jayden swallowed hard, staring at the cracks in the ceiling. He wanted to believe Dre. He needed to. But fear gnawed at the edges of his fire, threatening to snuff it out.
---
The Letter
That night, Jayden pulled out his hidden scrap of pencil and paper. He hadn't written to Layla in months, not since the chaos began. But the thought of max made him imagine her face again — small, scared, calling his name as they dragged her away.
He scrawled:
Layla —
They want to send me somewhere worse. I don't know if I'll make it out. But if I do, I'm gonna find you. I swear it. I won't let the system take everything. Not you. Not me. Not us.
The paper shook in his hands as he folded it, tucking it deep under his mattress.
---
The Fire Rekindled
Lying in the dark, Jayden whispered to himself, over and over:
"I'm not done. I'm not done. I'm not done."
Through the wall, Dre's voice came quiet, but firm. "That's right. You're not."
And for the first time since the ambush, Jayden's fire didn't just rage. It sharpened.
Max was coming. The system thought it had already won.
But Jayden swore he'd find a way to turn the story around.
Not just survive.
Fight back.