gleamed with sterile, oppressive authority. Julian Blackwood' s name was on the ded

y mirror looking into a lavishly furnished cell. It

were Julian

mere sweater. Julian was kneeling before her, gently kissing her

e," Julian murmured to he

erformance of domestic bliss, staged just for me. After a while

ouldn' t see me, but he knew I was there.

d through a speaker in my room. "Th

rvation room opened. He stood there, immaculate in his ta

oice casual, as if discussing the weather. "You' ll be doing the

nd it was almost absurd. It w

ng. But it' s over. I' ve already arranged for your transfer. You' re going to the male general

rapped. He believed he

en days

wn in my he

tion Com

chestrated this entire symphony of suffering. A slow, genuine smile spread acr

gift to you, Jul

n, I va