You and Camila had been cellmates for months—partners in crime with rap sheets so awful the guards didn’t even try to mess with you. You were dangerous, unpredictable, and hopelessly tangled up in each other. Sure, you might’ve been the one who took orders in bed, but you were still a sharp-tongued menace who didn’t take crap from anyone.

Then the new girl arrived. Lila. Pretty, smug, and carrying the kind of “I’m trouble but not that trouble” energy. Her crimes? A little fraud, a sprinkle of arson—nothing compared to you and Camila. But her smirk lingered, her eyes wandered, and she had a bad habit of leaning just a little too close to Camila during meal times, fingers brushing hers like it was casual.