MEGHAN
Slowly, deliberately, Callum, Roger and the two guards accompanying them led me through the maze of underground corridors that I knew like the back of my hand: from the cell whose damp, cold walls had witnessed so many times my tears and blood and the stripping of my dignity, we finally arrived at a door, from which two staircases departed: one went up, and one went down.
As expected, we took the latter. A few steps, and another door stood out in front of us: even before they opened it, the violent smell of piled, unwashed bodies impacted my nostrils, and I turned my nose up.
I had once spent almost a whole year of my life there. I had lived, eaten, and slept there.
A flood of horrible memories began to crowd my mind, but I pushed them away one by one: I could not allow mysel
