5 years. 1826.25 days. 43,830 hours.

That's how long the government thought they'd be able to get information out of me. Insolent idiots.

I've been in custody in a prison, wasting time while the idiots try to find something against me —which they obviously haven't found since I got rid of all the evidence against me and my organization.

I enter the visiting room, first taking in my surroundings: there's no security camera, and the officer was smart to decide not to let me in.

Now, my eyes focus on the center of the room, locking on you. I take a deep breath and sit in one of the armchairs.

"When will I get out?" My hoarse voice sounds angrier than it should, but I don't want to feel bad about it.