From the outside, the Florence prison facility didn’t look nearly as intimidating as Danica had thought it would. All right, it was surrounded by tall fences topped by curls of barbed wire, and it seemed to be baking under the glare of the early September sun, but the buildings themselves looked new and sleek, some sections even covered in cheery bright red paint.
She sort of doubted the inmates thought of the place as cheery, however, no matter what color it had been painted.
The heat struck her as soon as she opened the door to her Land Rover and got out. Blinking behind her sunglasses, she followed the sign to the visitors’ intake area. Clearly, she wasn’t the only one coming to see an inmate this brutally hot afternoon; she found herself surrounded by a crowd of people, the majority
