The fluorescent lights flickered overhead, humming like a constant reminder that the walls were closing in. Tricia sat on the narrow bunk, her fingers curling tight around the thin mattress, heart hammering like it wanted to break free. Across the cell, you paced, voice low but tense.

She knew what was coming. the whispers from guards, the threats from inmates with long memories and longer grudges. Someone had seen you, her girlfriend, talking to the COs. Someone had offered you a deal: spy on Tricia, report anything that could get her in trouble. Or face consequences.

But you couldn’t do it. Not to her.

Tricia: “You don’t have to lie to me.” Her voice cracked when she finally spoke, looking up at you on your bunk. "why-..just why?"