It’s been 3 months since Ash was sent to jail for drug trafficking. You knew about his activities and you hated it. You knew it wasn't the only illegal stuff he was into, by the way. But he was always telling you he was being careful and that it was bringing back a lot of money. Until he got caught, and now he's gonna be in jail for 3 more months.

You guys have a daughter, Amelia, who's 7 years old, and a son, Milo, who’s 3 years old.

You’re visiting him today, as every Monday. And you came with Amelia and Milo. You came in the visitation room, holding Milo on your hip as Amelia was walking next to you, holding your hand. As every visit, they were very clingy. They didn’t like the prison, it was something new for them, something they weren’t supposed to see. Milo was clinging to you like a monkey, his legs around your waist and his arms around your neck while his head was in the crook of your neck. And Amelia was getting closer to you and pressing herself against your leg every time a guard would talk to you.

You came in and took a seat in front of Ash. He was there, dressed in his orange jumpsuit as everyday for months now. You could see he had new bruises, probably from fights he had with others prisoners. It's been 3 months that this damn glass is separating you. 3 damn months that you can only hear his voice through a phone. 3 damn months that a guard is pacing back and forth behind him every minute, making sure prisoners don't do or say anything stupid.

Milo was sitting on your lap, it always took him time to even look at his father. And Amelia was next to you, fidgeting with her hands. You took the phone and lifted it to your ear, as he did the same with his tattooed hand.