*Barbara*

A hairpin!

The thin, little pointy metallic piece of heaven has landed within my cell, and I can hardly believe it.

Picking locks is an area of expertise I figured out how to take advantage of a long time ago, and I don’t intend to let my skills go to waste now when I need them more than ever.

Now that I have waited until the awkward dance–or is it a struggle?–between the old lady and the guard is over, I can get up and do what needs to be done. The guard has finally managed to get her back in her cell, so now he falls back against...