Sia POV

The iron doors slammed behind me with a finality that sent a cold shiver down my spine. Arizona Women’s Prison looked worse than the last time I’d seen it, if that was even possible. The yard was a mess of overcrowded bodies, the air thick with tension and desperation. The once-familiar smell of sweat, fear, and decay hit me harder than before, like walking into a wall of rot. There were more patrol cars circling the perimeter, their flashing lights casting a harsh glow on the rusted fences, and the guards—if you could still call them that—had traded in their batons for stun guns and even machine guns....