The last of them

 The days in juvenile detention blurred together. The same cold walls. The same lifeless food. The same empty stares from kids who had already lost everything. But none of them had lost as much as Dev had.

He spent most of his time in silence, replaying that night over and over in his mind. If only he had stayed with Cole. If only he had fought harder. If only he had done something, anything different.

But thinking like that wouldn't change a thing.

Jack had won.

For now.

Dev sat at the cafeteria table, pushing the food around his tray. It was the same slop as always, something that was supposed to resemble mashed potatoes but tasted more like glue.

 Across the room, kids whispered, laughed, fought. Some were lifers, kids who had already accepted that they'd soon be free. Others were just waiting, like Dev, for the day they'd be transferred to an even worse prison.

The guards didn't care what happened in here. Fights broke out every day. Some kids formed their own groups, gangs even, just to survive. But Dev didn't want any of that.

He wanted revenge.

"Still not eating?"

Dev glanced up. The voice belonged to Jason, a kid he had met a few months ago. He wasn't like the others, he wasn't cruel for no reason, wasn't looking to pick fights. He had been locked up for stealing a car, but unlike most kids in here, he had a family that actually visited him. Jason was just 16 years old.

"Not hungry," Dev muttered.

Jason sighed and sat across from him, shoving a spoonful of whatever-the-hell-this-was into his mouth. "You gotta eat, man. You're already looking half-dead."

Dev didn't answer.

Jason watched him for a moment before speaking again. "You still thinking about it?"

Dev's grip on his fork tightened. "Thinking about what?"

Jason leaned in slightly. "Revenge."

Dev's eyes flicked up.

Jason smirked. "Yeah, I know. I see the way you zone out. You're not thinking about freedom. You're thinking about payback."

Dev said nothing.

"You ever wonder how you're gonna do it?" Jason continued. "I mean, say you get out. What's the plan? Go after Jack? Go after his dad?"

Dev clenched his jaw. He had thought about it. Every single night. He had imagined finding Jack, making him pay. He had thought about the look of fear in his eyes when he finally saw him again.

"I don't know," Dev admitted.

Jason scoffed. "Then you better figure it out. 'Cause if you go into this without a plan, you'll end up back in a place like this. Or worse."

Dev knew he was right.

Jason leaned back, tapping his fingers against the table. "Word of advice? Don't just go after Jack. Go after everything he has. His reputation, his life. Make him feel what you felt."

Dev didn't respond, but the words stuck with him.

Jason stood up, grabbing his tray. "Think about it, man. You've got time."

Dev stared at his untouched food, his mind racing.

Jason was right.

If he wanted to take Jack down, he had to be smart about it.

A Year Later – The Final Court hearing.

The day Dev turned eighteen, everything changed.

He stood in the center of his cell as the guards came to get him.

"On your feet, Calloway," one of them barked.

Dev didn't say anything as he stepped forward, allowing them to cuff him. He had been waiting for this. Juvenile detention was one thing, but now he was being sent to an adult prison.

A real hellhole.

As they led him out, Jason stood by the door, watching him go.

"Guess this is it, huh?" Jason said.

Dev nodded.

Jason smirked. "Don't die in there, alright?"

Dev allowed himself a small smirk. "No promises."

*********

The courtroom was silent, except for the sound of the judge flipping through pages of Dev's case file. The air was thick with tension, the weight of judgment pressing down on him like a boulder. He sat at the defendant's table, shackled at the wrists, his face emotionless. He had already spent two years in juvenile detention, and now, at eighteen, he was finally facing his sentencing.

Across the room sat Jack and his gang, dressed in suits, looking every bit like innocent boys caught in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Their families were there, their expressions full of sympathy and carefully rehearsed grief. Jack's father, a well-respected prosecutor, sat beside his son, his mere presence casting a shadow over the entire trial.

Dev's father wasn't there. He hadn't shown up for a single hearing.

No lawyer. No family. No one on his side.

Just him, alone.

The judge cleared his throat, adjusting his glasses as he spoke. "After reviewing the case, considering the testimonies of multiple witnesses, and evaluating the evidence presented, the court finds the defendant, Devan Calloway, guilty of manslaughter in the death of Cole Bennett."

A murmur spread across the courtroom, but Dev barely reacted. He had already known what was coming.

"Furthermore," the judge continued, "due to the nature of the crime, and considering the prosecution's argument that the act was not only violent but premeditated, this court is sentencing the defendant to twenty years in state prison, with the possibility of parole after fifteen years."

Dev heard a sharp intake of breath from someone in the audience. He didn't know who. It didn't matter.

His fate was sealed.

Jack and his friends remained still, no celebration, no smirks, just quiet satisfaction. Only one of them looked uncomfortable. Chou. He hadn't spoken during the trial, hadn't even looked Dev in the eye.

But it was too late for second thoughts.

"Case closed," the judge declared, slamming the gavel down.

And just like that, Dev's life was over.

Outside the Courthouse,

As Dev was led out of the courtroom in cuffs, he saw Jack standing near the steps, surrounded by reporters. Cameras flashed. Microphones were shoved in his face.

"Jack! How does it feel to see justice served?"

"Do you feel safe knowing Devan Carter is behind bars?"

Jack gave a well-practiced, somber nod. "It's been a long road, but I think Cole finally got the justice he deserved. I just hope Dev can find peace with what he's done."

Dev clenched his fists.

The cameras turned toward him as the officers pulled him toward the prison van.

"Devan! Do you have anything to say for yourself?"

"Did you really kill your best friend?"

"Any regrets?"

Dev didn't answer. He just stared at Jack.

Jack met his gaze for a second, just a flicker of eye contact before looking away.

And that told Dev everything he needed to know.

Jack was afraid.

He didn't expect Dev to make it out of prison.

He didn't expect Dev to ever get the chance to set things right.

But Jack was wrong.

Because no matter how many years it took, no matter how much he had to endure, Dev would get out.

And when he did…

Jack wouldn't see him coming.

The First Day in Prison…

The transfer to adult prison was a blur. The iron doors slammed shut behind him, and just like that, Devan Calloway was no longer a boy lost in the system.

He was an inmate.

A number.

A ghost.

The other prisoners watched as he walked in, sizing him up like fresh meat. Dev didn't react. He had spent a year in juvenile detention; he knew what happened to guys who showed weakness.

He kept his head down, his fists clenched at his sides.

This wasn't just about surviving.

This was about getting stronger.

Smarter.

More dangerous.

Because one day, whether it was five years or fifteen…

He would get out.

And when he did, Jack would wish he had killed him instead.