Too early the next morning, the guard bangs his nightstick against the bars of Kent’s cell, making him jump awake.
“Lippert,” the guard says, yawning. “Visitor.”
Kent stands, wondering what the hell could be going on. He doesn’t say a word, though, knowing better than to ask. Instead, he simply stands and walks to the door, waiting for them to open it.
A short, silent walk talks Kent down the hallway with the interrogation rooms, and he raises his eyebrows when he realizes that he’s being walked past them. So, he thinks, curious. An actual visitor this time…
Kent’s eyebrows raise even further when he sees Daniel alone in the large visitation room, meant to accommodate a series of guests visiting inmates all at once. Daniel’s sitting slumped in a chair, his head hanging, his hair mussed
