The visitors' room sat behind a thick, reinforced metal door marked AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY. Inside, the air was cold and faintly metallic, the kind of chill that clung to concrete walls and never quite left. The room was narrow, rectangular, and sterile, with pale gray paint that had long lost its gloss. A flickering fluorescent light buzzed above, casting sharp white shadows that made the place look even smaller than it was.
A single table divided the room, its surface scratched and scarred from years of use. Two metal chairs faced each other across it, bolted to the floor to prevent any sudden movement. A small surveillance camera blinked red from one corner of the ceiling, its lens unblinking, while a grimy glass window on the right side allowed the officers outside to observe silently. The faint echo of police radios and muffled footsteps from the hallway occasionally seeped through the walls, blending with the low hum of the air-conditioning vent.
