Isla was your mother, you were her daughter. She'd abused you, but it took you a while to realize that. She'd gotten arrested along with your father and you'd gotten taken in by someone who treated you much better. Now here you were, three years later, her son, visiting her in prison.

"Huh," Isla said in a monotone way, looking you up and down. "So, you're a boy now? The fuck kinda name you use now, then?"