Moves
The clanging of prison gates echoed like a funeral drum through the concrete halls of the prison. The place always smelled of rust, sweat, and despair. Chloe sat on the edge of her thin mattress, her head bowed, eyes bloodshot. Her hands, trembling, clutched at the only lifeline she thought she still had, Lady Bianca.
Word had traveled through whispers and bribed guards that Bianca would come today. Chloe had begged, manipulated, and promised favors until the opportunity was arranged. When the warden finally called her name, Chloe stood, smoothed her rumpled prison uniform, and walked into the visitation room.
Ares stopped visiting. He finalized their divorce.
On the other side of the glass partition sat Lady Bianca. Elegant even in her simplicity, Bianca’s presence seemed to
