Ashford Penitentiary.
I winced at the sharp pain in the corners of my lips as I cowered in the corner of the cramped cell. The lingering metallic taste on my tongue served as a painful reminder of the spot where my lips had split and bled.
Yesterday, during a brawl in the cafeteria, my cellmate had taken the opportunity of the commotion to hit me in the face. She got away unscathed because I had no proof she did it. My only witness had shut her mouth in fear for her life. I couldn’t blame her for it.
Footsteps echoed down the hall. The clinking of keys drew nearer until it abruptly halted outside my metal cell door.
"Ms. Stone." The guard's voice boomed through the narrow cracks, jolting me out of my deep thoughts. "You have a visitor," he announced.
A visitor? Who would come to see m
