ELENA POV
Week Seven.
The prison was two hours away by bus.
I couldn't afford a car, and Margaret had offered to drive me, but I'd declined. I needed the time alone. To prepare myself.
To figure out what I'd say to Damien.
The bus rattled along the highway, passing fields and small towns. I stared out the window, watching the world go by.
My first visit.
After six weeks of Damien being locked up, I was finally going to see him.
I was terrified.
Not of the prison. Not of the guards or the rules.
But of seeing Damien behind glass. In an orange jumpsuit. Paying the price for helping me.
The guilt sat heavily in my chest.
The doctor had told me to prepare for emotional responses. "Seeing someone you care about in prison can trigger trauma. Be gentle with yourself."
Gentle. Right.
The bus pulled into the prison parking lot at 9:45 AM.
Visiting hours started at 10.
