Devon:
Three weeks later,
It’s very surprising how fast time flies, everything just whooshes in a blur. Today, I’m visiting Barbara in prison, her court date is tomorrow and justice will finally be decided for poisoning my father.
The air in the visitation room smells like cigarettes and smoke. The officer, a kind man in his fifties, already instructs me to sit down and wait until Barbara is being led in, so now I have been waiting for ten minutes.
The steel door opens and Barbara is escorted in by an officer, her wrists cuffed, dressed in an orange jumpsuit. The moment she sees me, there’s a ghostly faint smile on her lips, I don’t say a word until she makes herself comfortable in the seat and the officer leaves us alone.
“You look like hell.” I say, in the weeks that Barbara has bee
