Thestarkfluorescentlightsoftheinterrogationroomhummedwithanunsettling,sterileintensity,castinglong,distortedshadowsthatdancedwiththenervoustremorinmyhands.WardenDavies,amanwhosefaceseemedcarvedfromgraniteandwhoseeyesheldtheunyieldingglintofsteel,stoodbeforeme.Hispresencefilledthesmallspace,suffocatingandabsolute.Hewasn'tamangiventopleasantriesorsubtlenudges;hismethodswereasbluntandunforgivingastheconcretewallsthatsurroundedus.

"Therulesaretherules,inmate,"hedeclared,hisvoicealowrumblethatvibratedintheair."Andtherulesstateathoroughbodysearchisrequired.Noexceptions."

Iswallowed,thedrylumpinmythroatatestamenttotheanxietycoilinginmygut."Warden,"Ibegan,myvoicebarelyawhisper,"Iunderstandtheneedforsecurity.Ido.Butthis…thisfeelslikeaviolation."

Hescoffed,asounddevoidofhumororempathy."Violation?It'saprocedure.Anecessaryonetoensurethesafetyofthisinstitutionandeveryonewithinit."Hegesturedvaguelytowardstheceiling,asiftheverystructureoftheprisonechoedhissentiment."Wecannothavecontraband,wecannothaveescapetools,wecannothaveanythingthatjeopardizesorder."

Mybodytensed.Ihadbeenthroughthisbefore.Eachtime,theroutinewasthesame:thedehumanizingstrippingawayofclothes,thecold,probingtouchthatfeltlesslikeasecuritymeasureandmorelikeanassertionofpower.Itwasthefeelingofbeingutterlyexposed,reducedtoacollectionofvulnerablesurfaces,whereeveryinchofskinwassubjecttoscrutiny,everynaturalcurveandcontourapotentialhidingplaceforsomethingillicit.

"ButWarden,