CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED AND EIGHTY – VISITING OLD MEMORIES

She shivered involuntarily as the oppressive walls and coiled razor-wire fences came into view, evoking a visceral response of unease honed by months of conditioning. But she steeled herself and pressed on towards the visitation entrance, mentally fortifying her resolve. These broken women had seen her at her lowest ebbs, offering sanctuary and even fleeting moments of camaraderie. Kayla owed it to them to demonstrate how much that compassion had meant, no matter how gruff it manifested at times. After the exhaustive processing and security screenings, Kayla found herself ushered into the stark visitation room and directed to a rigid aluminum table tucked in the corner. As she settled onto the painfully unyielding bench, she felt a wave of déjà vu and muscle memories crash over her. After several tense minutes of waiting, the reinforced door at the far end of the room clanged open. Kayla felt her breath catch in her throat as Marly waddled in first, unmistakable in her faded orang