Chapter 1595: She was not alone in this

[Anteca Correctional Facility]

It wasn’t like Cassandra had high expectations. It wasn’t like she didn’t know her father’s concerns were genuine. He might be submissive to her grandfather, but Cassandra was his daughter—his flesh and blood.

But still... in the Smith family, only Senator Smith’s words mattered.

He was the only one with real power and connections. Her parents and everyone else? They just relied on the senator’s influence. Without it, they were nothing.

She used to think that was normal. But as she grew older—especially now, in this situation—she loathed it. She couldn’t help but feel pathetic. Her parents were pathetic. And so was she.

"Hey, pretty face! Stop sobbing or I’ll shut you up!"

Cassandra flinched at the bark from another inmate in a nearby cell.

"Someone’s trying to nap here!" another shouted. "Shut up!"

"If I hear another whimper, I’ll kill you, bitch!" a third snapped.

Cassandra clamped her hand over her mouth, muffling her sobs. She squeezed herself into the corner of the bunk bed, tears now flowing more freely.

The women here weren’t friendly. On her first day, someone had already warned her not to be a nuisance. Otherwise, she’d "get it." She didn’t want to know what "it" meant, so she tried to be as quiet as possible. Even then, she understood that silence would only buy her a little time before she became someone’s target.

And she was sure of that.

God...

She shuddered, closing her eyes as her shoulders trembled. She wouldn’t survive this place.

She didn’t know it, but in her first life, Penny had told herself the same thing—until the beatings became too much. The difference was, Cassandra had no brother to please. She was never compelled to take up martial arts or fight back. So her chances of surviving this were slim.

As she kept her misery to herself, a sharp voice rang out from a female officer.

"You’ve got another visitor." The officer rapped the bars with her baton. "Get up."

BUZZ!

Cassandra snapped her eyes open at the sharp buzz of the cell door. As usual, the officer stepped in and repeated, "Get up."

"Who is it...?" Cassandra murmured, only to earn a flat look from the officer. She gulped and nodded before crawling off the bed.

She turned her back to the officer, allowing herself to be cuffed. Visits meant going through multiple checkpoints. She’d already done this routine earlier—yet here she was again.

She asked who the visitor was on the way, but the officer ignored her.

In this place, the inmates weren’t the only scary ones—the officers were, too. Compassion wasn’t expected when they were dealing with the most dangerous criminals in the country. And apparently, Cassandra was now considered one of those.

BUZZ!

Another loud buzz echoed. She was starting to get used to these sharp, mechanical sounds. The door to the visitation booth opened.

Stepping inside, Cassandra saw Kiara rise from her seat, hand pressed to the glass.

The sight of her friend made a lump form in her throat, her neck tightening. But Cassandra held back her tears as the officer locked her handcuffs on the table.

"Fifteen minutes," the officer said, standing in the booth’s corner.

Normally, prisoners like Cassandra were granted one visit per day, three times a week. But thanks to her grandfather pulling strings, she got more.

"Cassy..." Kiara offered a soft smile through the glass, her brows knitting when she noticed the swelling around Cassandra’s eyes.

Her lips parted, then quivered. She couldn’t even ask if Cassandra was okay—because clearly, she wasn’t. Kiara’s own eyes reddened as she swallowed the lump in her throat.

They had been friends for a long time. Cassandra could see how Kiara immediately held back her tears. And for some reason, that subtle effort broke her.

Her tears spilled.

"If you cry, I’ll cry," Kiara blurted, pressing her palm to the glass as if to wipe away her friend’s tears. "Please, Cassy, don’t cry anymore."

But Cassandra couldn’t stop herself.

And so, for the first five minutes of their fifteen-minute visit, the two just sat there, crying.

"My appeal was rejected again," Cassandra finally whispered when she found her voice. She sniffled hard. "Ki... I don’t think I’ll ever get out of here."

Kiara sniffled too, trying—and failing—to force a smile. "They tried to appeal again for bail?"

"Mhm." Cassandra wiped her tears with her shoulder, since her hands were cuffed. "I’m not getting out. I don’t think I ever will—I’m going to die."

And just like that, the fear consumed her again.

Since her arrest, she’d told herself she was innocent and would eventually walk free. But with every passing day, every rejection, that belief withered.

If she were convicted, she would die.

If not by execution, then... she might take her own life.

"Shh... you’re not," Kiara hushed, panicking. But she felt helpless. A single pane of glass separated them, yet it felt like an impossible barrier.

She couldn’t hug her friend. Couldn’t even hold her hand. All she could do was press her palm to the cold surface and ache.

"Cassy, listen to me," Kiara whispered. Cassandra looked up, her vision blurry because of the tears overflowing from her eyes. Kiara nodded with emotion tightening her brows. "Just... just try the lawyer I told you about. Please."

"Kiara—"

"Cassy, your appeals have already been rejected multiple times. Your lawyer tried to get you out on bail from the start, and it was denied. He sent an appeal. Still denied." Kiara’s voice turned firm, persuasive.

"What is there to lose?"

Another tear rolled down her cheek. She bit her inner lip in frustration. "I know you don’t trust her, but... do you still trust me?"

Cassandra didn’t answer.

"If you do, just meet her once," Kiara pleaded. "If you’re still not convinced, then... we’ll keep looking, okay?"

Cassandra stayed silent, just staring at the helplessness on the other side of the glass that mirrored her own.

She wasn’t alone in this.

As long as Kiara was still there, she couldn’t give up. Not yet.