Shane breaks eye contact first. “I’d like to go back to my cell now.” “Are you sure you don’t want—” “Yes.” I do as he says—I ask Hunt to bring him back to his cell without getting the tests he needs. He’s depressed—that much is obvious. Suicidal? I don’t know. We have a psychiatrist who allegedly comes once a month, but I’ve yet to see him once during the months I’ve been here. I consider calling Shane back to ask him more about it, but I don’t want to torture him. I’m not sure I’m going to see Shane again while I’m working here. He’ll probably do his damnedest to avoid any medical visits,
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