The next morning, I ache all over and I wonder if I’m coming down with something. I shuffle along with all the other inmates and have watered-down oatmeal for breakfast. This time, I don’t have to force myself to give Lene my extra food. I can’t stomach any of it anyway.

“You okay?” she asks. “You look pale and there are dark circles under your eyes. I could do a séance and ask the ancestors for help. Get you feeling right again in no time.”

“Ah, no thanks.” I shake my head. “I think I just need some rest.”

“You can go back to the cell.” She scoops up more...