She fought the urge to cover herself with her arms as she took the seat across the table from him.He had a doughy face mottled with scars. His feet were small in blue canvas shoes. He was wearing blue pants and a blue chambray shirt. His fingernails were neat and he smelled sweet, like talcum powder. He gel-combed his sparse hair over a pink scalp.She and Syzmanski had ridden a bright blue van over to the B facility, and come in through a sally port, two secure electronic doors, neither opened at the same time. The guard was watching their progress on banks of video monitors as they climbed the metal stairs to a locked door at the top. They waited as the guard upstairs electronically buzzed them through.Now Syzmanski stood outside the interview room, glancing through the glass window occasionally to make sure she was okay. Two guards paced in the hall, ready to escort Benny to his cell. Benny clasped his small hands on the table. Leg shackles clanked as he shifted.“Do you know who I am?”
