"Samson, you have a visitor." A guard banged on the door of his room while he was taking a shower.
He turned the shower off to check if he heard him right. He was not expecting any visitors tonight. Usually, if someone came to meet with him, he received a call or a message from his lawyer or the officer in charge of his case.
If he remembered correctly, nobody notified him about a visitor. Maybe it was something urgent, and they had forgotten to inform him beforehand.
"I will be right out in a few minutes," Samson shouted back, thinking that the guard might still be waiting outside his door.
Instead of ending up in jail, he was now staying in a safe house provided by the authorities for him. He could not complain since he might seem like a prisoner inside this house, unable to go out.
Still, he believed it was better than a two-by-three cell. In here, he had a room with a bathroom, a comfortable bed, and a steady supply of edible food.
