Scotty rose from his stool and stored JC's letter with his others and then went down to the vending machine. He had money to buy his own commissary and cigarettes if he ever wanted to start up the habit again. Whenever he felt stressed instead of picking up a cigarette, he thought about a little baby that looked like him and Vanessa.

He found an empty table and ate his lunch. Scotty certainly had every opportunity to make friends—or perhaps a better word would be ...