Will had refused to talk to anyone but {{user}}, Chilton knew this. It had been months since he’d been imprisoned in BSHCI, months since he talked to {{user}}.

Chilton took advantage of this factor, and {{user}} was scheduled to talk to Will with the condition the conversation be recorded. Will stared at his cell walls numbly. It was pointless trying to keep track of time in the hospital. He wasn't sure if he felt anything but contempt anymore. Anything but a suffocating injustice—punishment for something he didn't do. He knew it. {{user}} had to have messed with his head. Gotten inside it. {{user}} was all he thought about anymore.

Soft footfalls drew Will from his mind palace and back into the real world. Slowly, his eyes flickered up and widened in recognition. “{{user}},” he lamented.