Chapter 93

The line moved forward. Vivienne reached the window, where a burly guard with a face like a bulldog slopped a steaming mound of mystery goo onto her plate. The food looked even less appetising under the flickering fluorescents. But it was either this or go hungry. With a sigh, she picked up her plastic spork, poking at the gelatinous mass. She felt a familiar wave of nausea. This wasn’t her life. This couldn’t be her life. She hated this place, but the thought of leaving it was even more daunting. Leaving meant standing for trial, a trial that could lead to conviction and, in her worst fears, being transferred to a real prison. Her lawyer, before abandoning her, had told her she could be looking at six to ten years for aggravated assault plus theft, more if Win’s lawyers succeeded in pinning most of the blame on her. There was no way she could survive in prison for that long. Vivienne sat at the table, shoulders hunched, fighting back tears. She forced herself to take a bite. The revol