At the Public Prison, Joanna sat expressionlessly across from the parole officer.
Her lawyer stood beside the parole officer, discussing possible issues with some documents.
Joanna's gaze quickly shifted from the two of them to the blue sky outside the window.
The sky seen from here was different from the sky seen inside the prison.
If someone had told her in the past that one sky could differ from another, she would have mocked it inwardly, ridiculing their affectation.
But at this moment, she understood. One sky really was different from another.
Without the iron bars and the wary gazes of the prison guards, even her mood had begun to settle.
The swollen wound on her cheekbone still throbbed faintly. She had gotten it during lunch two days ago.
Someone had not wanted her to get out so soon. During lunch, they had overturned her tray and then punched her several times.
They had demanded that she fight back, but she had not. She had responded in silence.
The prison guards had been standing less than ten meters away, batons in hand, yet they seemed completely uninterested in everything happening nearby.
They had stopped only when their provocation elicited no response from her whatsoever and they realized she would not retaliate.
The other person had spat in her face before leaving calmly.
The spit had smelled awful.
People in the Federation cared deeply about oral health. Regardless of their social class, most had their own dentists.
But people were less particular about it in prison.
There were dentists in prison too, but they charged more and did a more perfunctory job, so few people could afford to see them.
If you had money for a dentist, you were better off finding a way to transfer to a Private Prison.
Criminals