Prologue

 

Once he is in the cell they unshackle him and instruct him to strip. He takes off the grey winter coat with brisk efficiency and then – as they watch, arms folded – his movements slow, fear turning his fingers clumsy on belt buckle, shirt buttons.

       They wait until he is completely naked before they gather up his clothes and leave. When he is dressed again, he suspects, he will be wearing an orange jumpsuit.

       The cold gleam of the steel bench makes his body shrivel. As long as it’s possible, he’ll stand.

       How did it come to this, he wonders.