Chapter 16 - The Cold Concrete
There was one final, lingering shadow I needed to sever before I could fully step into my future.
I requested a visitor's pass to the Federal Maximum Security Penitentiary.
The drive was long, the landscape turning barren and gray as I approached the massive, terrifying fortress of concrete, steel, and razor wire.
I walked through the metal detectors, surrendering my phone and my coat, before being led down a long, echoing corridor to the high-security visitation block.
I sat in a cold metal chair, separated by a thick pane of bulletproof glass, exactly like the ones I had seen in movies.
The heavy steel door on the other side clicked open with a harsh, mechanical buzz.
Eleanor was escorted into the small, caged booth.
I barely recognized her.
The glamorous, arrogant queen of the charity gala was entirely gone. Her face was gaunt, deeply lined with the sheer, agonizing stress of a life behind bars. Her gray hair was thin and brittle. She looked small. She looked pathetic.
May you like
She picked up the plastic telephone receiver on her side of the glass.
I picked up mine.
