That day was exceptionally nasty. The rain poured down on the roof of the building, causing a persistent tapping almost throughout the entire section of the inmates' cells. Valens sat on his bed with an old book and tried to quiet the rain in his head, when the regular sound of nature was joined by footsteps, and then the rattle of the door to his cell opening. The guard stood right by the entrance, and behind him someone else was standing, with a rolled mat and no papers. The man looked back at the guard and muttered under his breath:

He turned a page.

he said.