In 1970, with­in the con­fines of her cell, Kya faces the harsh real­i­ty of iso­la­tion and the con­se­quences of trust­ing oth­ers. She reflects on her rela­tion­ships, par­tic­u­lar­ly with Tate, whose vis­its she declines, reveal­ing a deep­er clo­sure of her heart due to her vul­ner­a­bil­i­ty and dis­trust. Her soli­tary con­fine­ment high­lights her pro­found lone­li­ness, with only her broth­er Jodie as a poten­tial life­line, whom she hes­i­tates to bur­den with her predica­ment. Her trea­sured belong­ings, a shell book from Tom Mil­ton and biol­o­gy texts from Tate, offer lit­tle solace, her thoughts too scat­tered to engage ful­ly with them. A vis­it from her lawyer, Tom Mil­ton, presents a bleak out­look on her tri­al, sug­gest­ing a plea bar­gain that Kya imme­di­ate­ly rejects, unable to con­cede to any admis­sion of guilt.

This chap­ter delves deeply into Kya’s state of mind, por­tray­ing her resilience and deter­mi­na­tion in the face of over­whelm­ing adver­si­ty. Her inter­ac­tions with oth­ers, from the guard Jacob to her lawyer, jux­ta­pose the few com­forts she receives—a care pack­age from Jumpin’, and the unex­pect­ed, com­fort­ing pres­ence of a cat named Sun­day Justice—with the grav­i­ty of her legal sit­u­a­tion. Her refusal to see Tate, despite his stead­fast sup­port, under­scores her pro­found dis­il­lu­sion­ment and self-reliance, even as she grap­ples with her feel­ings for him.

Her night­ly encounter with Sun­day Jus­tice, a cat that slips into her cell, offers a poignant glimpse of com­pan­ion­ship and a tem­po­rary respite from her iso­la­tion. This ges­ture of silent empa­thy, along­side the care shown by Jacob and the gifts from Jumpin’, jux­ta­pos­es with the stark­ness of her cell and the sever­i­ty of her sit­u­a­tion.

When Tate final­ly vis­its, their con­ver­sa­tion, marked by his unwa­ver­ing sup­port and her insis­tence on self-reliance, high­lights their com­plex rela­tion­ship and the dif­fi­cult path ahead. Kya’s rejec­tion of Tate’s efforts to aid her, root­ed in a deep-seat­ed need to pro­tect her­self from fur­ther pain, stands in stark con­trast to the sim­ple, uncon­di­tion­al accep­tance she finds in Sun­day Jus­tice’s com­pan­ion­ship.