The east block was built like a cage.
Three long tiers of cells stacked on top of each other, wrapped around a wide open hall in the middle, every level lined with iron railings and walkways and rows of barred doors. It had been a cell block once. Now it was a home. Mattresses were dragged out onto the walkways. Laundry hung from the railings. Someone had painted the bars of the bottom row in bright, ugly colors. There was a smell of cooking oil and cigarettes and too many people living too close together.
And right now, it was coming apart.
KRRRREEEEEEEEEK.
Bora stood in the middle of the hall with both arms raised, her metal-ringed fingers spread wide, and the entire second tier was bending toward her.
