Chapter 114 Cell Block Whore Ch1

• It starts with a slip — one stupid slip. She’s done this a hundred times: a packet of cigarettes pressed flat under her waistband, a few tiny pills tucked into the hem of her bra. She’s good. Too good to get caught.
• Or so she thought.
• The hallway is dead quiet after lights out — just the hum of buzzing fluorescents, the distant echo of some drunk tank idiot screaming into his pillow. She ducks into the storage room, fingers fumbling for the stash she hides behind the mop bucket. Just a quick drop, a quick grab — in, out, back to her cell before the night shift does rounds.