Sunlight streamed over the yard through the high walls.
Some people were playing basketball beneath the hoops, while others were working up a sweat beside the fitness equipment.
Life here moved at a slow, leisurely pace.
If you looked closely, you would find that the people here usually gathered in groups.
They clustered together in little groups, wary of one another and barely interacting.
Because this was a prison.
Old Fox was being held in a prison next to York State.
It was a private prison, and Little Fox had spent quite a bit of money when he had Old Fox transferred here.
As far as the wardens of public prisons were concerned, they did not want to offend the Tax Department either. Sometimes, when certain tax evaders or people of that sort were sent in, their transfer applications would be rejected outright.
Sometimes, these people had to be made to live miserable lives in prison. Only then could they warn the people outside not to take any chances and hide money belonging to the state in their own pockets!
After the transfer, Old Fox's life became extremely comfortable. Private prisons were hell for many criminals, but for wealthy criminals, they were heaven.
He sat on the steel bleachers, picking at his teeth. The steak served at lunch had been fried a little too long, and some strands of meat had gotten stuck between his teeth.
As he grew older, the gaps between his teeth had grown wider as well.
The afternoon sun was a little harsh, but elderly people were less sensitive to changes in the outside temperature. As their bodily functions declined, their need for heat shifted from being generated internally to relying on the environment.
There were also some young men around him. They wore their hair