Jennifer was not allowed to work with the other prisoners. They had moved her to a separate yard with a small, fenced area away from the noise and the routine so she could grieve in private.

She sat on the cold concrete, knees pulled to her chest, tears flowing relentlessly.

Memories crowded in; her mother’s tired smile after she had returned, the way Susan smoothed her hair when she was a child, the way she had always protected her. Now those hands were cold and still. The thought ...