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“One day of punishment, Ursula; no light and no food. The darkness will make you strong, fasting will cleanse your body.” The black shoes, no longer shiny, creak on the wooden floor. The flickering flame of the lighter only illuminates his steely eyes.

“Alicia will come before night to bring you water and take you to the bathroom. I’ll see you at eight o’clock in the morning. Your punishment finishes at eight o’clock on the dot.”

Her father closes the door and shuts out the last fragment of this sunny day. Ursula hears the key turn, once and then once more. She still doesn’t want to look at the shadows 23that surround her; she curls up into a ball, sinks her face deeper into the pillow that is damp with her tears, and a voice whispers to her that one day somebody will have to pay for all this weeping.

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In prison, everything is dense. Everything makes his heart pound and fills him with claustrophobia and it’s not difficult to understand why they call this place the tomb: dirty corridors where smells intermingle, huge dark rooms furnished with a few wobbly chairs and scabby tables, photos of naked girls tacked to the crumbling walls, and that clammy cold that sticks to the body, filling the empty spaces with fog.

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