The air in the detention center was dry and damp. The lights on the ceiling flickered twice, as if slowly chewing on the rotten reality.
Here were held those awaiting trial: potential convicts of medium to severe crimes, their fates hanging in the balance of the judicial scales. At the edge of this cage, Bruce quietly entered the visiting room.
He saw Margot Ellison—once a woman standing in the sunlight of the middle class, now gaunt, her face worn with fatigue and cracked defenses.
Time and life in detention had shown her no mercy. Her timid husband Gilman had cut off all contact; she couldn't afford a lawyer, her resources were depleted, and now she was like a ship without a compass, waiting for a storm with no end in sight.
“Is... is there a breakthrough in the case? Can I get out?”
