Three weeks later
On the fourth day of the New Year, Silver woke with a start, his throat closed and his heart pounding. Yet again. He was barely breathing, and that feeling of suffocation was sadly, sickly familiar.
For those horrible and never-ending six f*****g years in jail, he hadn’t felt like he could get enough air. It had had to do with the bars and bells and mind-numbing routine, of course… but it had much, much more to do with the fact that he’d lost any and all control over his own body, and in the worst possible way. Only once and only for about twenty minutes – but it had been more than enough.
God, he remembered their weight pressing down on him like it was yesterday. He was sure that he’d never forget the sour mixture of emotions that he’d felt in those moments: helpless,
