19 Nora“Sorry.” The sturdy black-uniformed brunette facing Nora from the other side of the chest-high reception podium added an apologetic smile.
For the third time, she’d stopped processing Nora into the Washington Corrections Center for Women. Distracted, the brunette had to buzz in more prison guards.
Nora frowned.
The woman facing her was surprisingly cautious when admitting staff.
Nora had watched her deal one-by-one with two heavy-set men and an equally solid woman.
Each time the wall-mounted monitor chirped, the brunette at reception dropped what she was doing to peer through the bulletproof glass in the entry door.
Like she had to confirm that the person ringing her bell wore the same death’s-head-black outfit she did.
After checking out the new arrival, she remote-unlocked
