>She stands waiting, watching him shuffle up to the chair on the other side of the scratched plastic barrier. Orange is a bad color for him, she thinks, not for the first time.
Sh pulls out the hard vinyl chair to sit, picks up the phone while the guard helps him with his. “Hi,” she says, trying to smile in response to his blank look.
He doesn’t know her. He hasn’t known her since she was six, when he pulled the trigger and took away her mommy.
She visits him anyway, because once upon a time, he was her daddy.