I spend another night wide awake. But I'm not tossing and turning tonight. I'm plotting. I'm making an indestructible plan that Shera and I will use to get out of here. There are guards at the exits, and that's it. No lamps outside, nothing. If they want to keep us here, I could think of a hundred different layouts. There's a spot in the ceiling that's been water damaged, and it's blocked off by particleboard. I could completely escape out of there - but I need something that will elevate me to the ceiling. I can even do it with rope, I just need the right places to knot it. So at dawn, that same stupid lab worker comes in and sets out new uniforms and gives us two minutes to change, then leads us to breakfast. Breakfast today is a slice of plain toast and a bowl of applesauce, accompanied by straight-up coffee and water. We aren't allowed to put butter or jam on the toast, because of the calorie division. We can't even put sugar in the coffee, so it's bitter and thin. I'm actually hungry today, so I shovel down every bite and gulp. Then they give us twenty minutes in the bathroom, so I shower and use the toilet as quickly as I can. This follows up with an hour of free time where we sit in our rooms and interact with our inmates. I'm psyched for free time, because I describe my plan to Shera then. "I know how we'll leave," I say. "There's a spot in the ceiling that's just flimsy board, so if some rope can raise us up, I can bust it out. Then we'll somehow safely jump off the roof and go out the back of the property. There's only guards up front." Shera sits and analyzes my plan for about ten seconds, then replies, "There's a weaponry here. We can get rope there, probably." I raise one eyebrow. "How did you know there's a weaponry?" She smiles. "I've been observing too."