The symmetry was almost beautiful in its cruelty. The victim becoming the orchestrator. The powerless becoming the authority. The one who had died in that ring returning to witness her tormentors suffer the same fate.
Justice, Shuyin thought as the gates began to open, was rarely clean or simple. But sometimes it was perfectly, devastatingly appropriate.
The convoy soon pulled up to Black Water Ridge Penitentiary exactly twenty-eight minutes after departing the mansion. The facility loomed against the night sky, massive concrete walls topped with razor wire, guard towers with searchlights sweeping across the grounds, the kind of place designed to remind everyone who entered that hope ended at the gate.
Ting Fei brought the vehicle to a smooth stop at the main security checkpoint. A guard approached, his expression shifting from routine suspicion to careful deference when he saw the credentials Ting Fei presented through the window.
