Marshall’s POV

That week, the cold didn’t leave.

The mornings started with fog so thick it crawled into the cells, and the nights felt endless, heavy, gray, and colder than before. Everyone was miserable. Even the guards complained, rubbing their hands and cursing under their breath.

We’d been lucky the last few nights. The small heater in the hall still worked, humming faintly through the pipes. It wasn’t much, but it kept the air from freezing solid.

Then, one night, it stopped.

The whole block went dark.

No lights. No sound. Just a long, low click, and silence.

Someone down the corridor shouted, “Power’s out again!”

The guards didn’t bother...