The massive doors groaned open and swung wide, and it seemed like an eternity ago that Isla had walked out into the world beyond the high walls with Dante by her side. The convoy of cars crept into the city streets, the black cars moving like ghosts in procession. Armed men filled the cars that formed a ring around them, all faces somber, all eyes disturbed.
She did not go out very frequently. Dante hardly let her leave, especially now as he became increasingly worried day by day. However, this morning he told her to get dressed and took her to the waiting car without a word. The upholstery smelled faintly of gun oil and smoke, but the rush of chilly air through the window was like liberty on her skin.
