A week had passed. The sound of metal doors opening and closing echoed through the hallways of Rikers Island Women's Prison. Damian's steps sounded steady along the gray tiled floor. He held a large brown envelope that he hadn’t let go of since the beginning.

Isabella sat behind a thick glass partition, wearing an orange prison jumpsuit that made her face look even paler than usual. Her once perfectly coiffed hair now looked messy, her face tired, but her eyes still lit up with emotion when ...