Chapter Five: Caged and Seen
Prison, for all its harshness, became a kind of refuge—a sacred ground born from shared suffering. Behind the walls, among the clamor and control, lived a quiet truth: most of the women there were not just inmates, but survivors—survivors of some of the worst atrocities. Nearly 85% carried the scars of violence, much of it rooted in childhood, etched deep into bone and memory. Shame ran through them like blood—unspoken, but ever-present. And yet, in that broken place, something unexpected emerged: sisterhood. A space where tenderness was rare but deeply craved. Where being seen—truly seen—and heard without judgment became its own kind of healing. Prison isn’t just steel and concrete. It’s a suspended world where time slows and pain echoes. Every mistake becomes a splinter driven deeper under the nail. And your name—your past—follows you like a shadow so heavy, few dare to reach for you. But within that shadow, there are women who hold one another up. And somehow, that makes even the da...