Blackridge Correctional Facility had always prided itself on being impenetrable — a fortress of order and discipline where nothing escaped the watchful eyes of its security network. Every corner of the facility was monitored by high-resolution cameras. Every keycard swipe was logged, every corridor recorded, every cell accounted for. It was the kind of place where secrets were supposed to die before they were ever born.
So when Inmate #241 — Mara Jennings — began feeling waves of nausea and dizzy spells, the medical staff assumed it was stress, poor diet, or another case of the flu that often circled the cellblocks. But when the bloodwork returned, Dr. Eleanor Hayes froze in place, her hand trembling around the printout.
She read the results twice. Then a third time.
It was impossible.
