”Hey, kid, if I tell you to sit with us – then it’s okay. These guys don’t care as long as you don’t try to steal their food; food is what they live for,” Nicky jokes, looking over at the petite woman. She notices how she’s distanced herself from the rest of them and gives a reassuring smile, ”You don’t have to sit that far away, kid. No one’s gonna bite your head off or anything! Come on, get over here.” She pats the empty spot next to her.

”What’s your name?” A soothing voice asks, belonging to an older woman with spikey white-blonde hair and a kind smile on her face. ”You look too nice to be in here.”

Moving down to sit beside Nicky, Lorna looks down at her food as she aimlessly moves her fork around. ”Lorna Morello,” is her small response, suddenly not quite in the mood to socialize. She dreads that this is her ’home’ now and that there’s still so many days she must wake up here.

”Morello? Must be another fellow Italian. Have you met Anita yet? She’s Italian too,” the older inmate wonders, and smiles when she gets a nod from her. ”Anita’s a nice person – she’s always knitting things for her grandchildren.”

Just now realizing Lorna’s presence at her table, a short black-haired inmate – with a tattoo covering her entire arm – smirks at her. ”I believe we’ve already met, haven’t we? You gonna tell us how ya got in here, little sexy Morello?” She brings one of her fingers up to her mouth, licking it as she gives a wink to the horrified brunette.

Swallowing heavily, Lorna timidly stares down at her tray. She’s not sure how long she will be able to survive in this place. ”Uh well uh—”

”It’s okay, kid – ignore Boo, she’s just trying to get under your skin. Just eat your food, you don’t need to tell us anything,” Nicky says firmly, looking at the brunette. And then she stares harshly over at Boo, giving a kick to her leg under the table, ”Cool it. You’re gonna give the poor kid a heart attack!”

Boo rolls her eyes, blatantly irritated but doesn’t say much else.

A few minutes go by and joining them at the table is the prison chef – a middle-aged Russian woman with sharp-red hair, hard blue eyes, and permanently arched eyebrows. ”I see we’ve got a new friend here today,” she says, a very thick accent to her voice. She stares at the new inmate, easily noticing how nervous and afraid she seems to be, and puts on a friendly smile. ”Don’t look so sad – it gets easier with each day you’re here, honey.”