The fake tattoos had disappeared largely.
“So you weren’t one of us,” said a woman in the back.
Ana smiled slightly.
For a few days I was.
An older inmate raised her hand.
It was the woman who, on the first evening, whispered never to look Vanessa in her eye.
Why did you take that?
Ana remained silent for a few seconds.
“Because from the outside I saw reports. The Numbers. Complaints. Files. But I needed to understand what was really going on here.
And now?
“Now you’re not just numbers in a file.
The woman lowered her eyes.
Ana is getting ready to go, but before she gets to the door you hear a voice:
– Thank you.
Then another one.
– Thank you.
In a few seconds, almost the whole room repeated the same words.
Ana didn’t answer.
Just the bow of your head and get out.
A few months later, the penitentiary had a new leadership and much stricter rules on abuses between held.
And Vanessa?
He wasn’t driving anyone anymore.
For the first time in years, he had to follow the same rules as all the others.
But the women in that ward mostly remembered the day when a silent girl, covered in tattoos, had refused to give her lunch.
Not because he put Vanessa on his knees.
