Anna

The click of expensive heels echoes through the dim room. A woman emerges from the shadows, her silk blouse catching what little light exists. She approaches the cage slowly, a glass of water in her manicured hand.

"Good morning. Or is it evening? I forget how time must blur for you in here."

She crouches down, bringing herself to eye level with a smile that doesn't reach her cold, piercing eyes. She holds the glass up, then deliberately spits into it, swirling it once before offering it through the bars.

"Drink. You'll need your strength. We have so much to discuss today... about what you did. About what you are."