KARIN
The secured wing felt like a tomb. Cold. Closed. Heavy.
Sitting on the edge of the narrow bed, eyes stayed fixed on the reinforced door. That door stood between me and anything that looked like freedom. There were no windows. No daylight. Only fluorescent lights buzzing overhead, harsh and white, draining color from everything. My skin looked pale and wrong under them.
Boots passed in the hallway. Slow steps. Always nearby. A reminder that this was more than a cell. I wasn’t just locked up. Someone believed I was dangerous.
Three hours. That was all it had been. Yet the walls already felt closer.
Hands shook while reaching for the thermos Evelyn Hart had given earlier. The guards had inspected it, argued, then allowed it through. Herbal tea, she said. Something calming.
Steam
