The prison walls were high, and the gates were said to be electrified. She almost wanted to touch them to see.

God had made her this way, too curious about actions and too inconsiderate of reactions. Her dysfunction had imprisoned her behind these bars at the mercy of leering bullies who wanted to hurt her worse than Allen had. There was no crying.

Jogging with the pack -- behind the buff bitches and ahead of their bitches -- she caught sight of the outside. She slowed and stopped to stare, absently touching the high-voltage fence.

She never felt a thing.

 

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