Her execution date had been set for two weeks away. As it ticked round, I didn’t really believe it would happen. There was always a last-minute reprieve, wasn’t there? The governor would call, or her appeal would go through, and there’d be a stay. Yes, she’d still be stuck here for life, but she would be breathing, thinking, feeling. It was unimaginable that everything Rhonda had ever done or felt or seen was going to die with her. Just snuffed out like that, and not even an accident, but deliberately. Calculated. There was no victim to even witness this so-called justice – the person who mourned her children most was Rhonda.

She herself refused to engage in any of this, appeals or letters or pleading. ‘You still have a chance, honey. Let me help you. You have to stay alive and get out of here.’ And she taught me, in those final weeks, everything she’d learned about how to survive prison. How to work the system. Get the best food. Stand up for yourself in a fight. How to kill someone, if absolutely necessary. I hadn’t wanted any of it. ‘Jesus, Rhonda, no! It’s not going to come to that!’

She was implacable. ‘A girl in my last prison got shanked in the shower, the day before her release. Some people are jealous, they don’t want to see you walk out.’

‘But I’m not getting out!’

‘You don’t know that. If you’re alive, there’s still a chance. That’s what you have to do. Stay alive, no matter what.’

On the morning her execution was scheduled, I woke up sensing a new atmosphere. When everything is the same every day, you notice tiny details. The guard had done her hair, coloured some greys over, and she brought me breakfast in my cell, a small packet of cornflakes such as you get on planes or ferries, toast long gone cold, coffee in a plastic cup. There was no point in asking for tea, I’d learned.

‘No eggs?’ Bland as they were, it was something hot inside you to start the day – or rather, lukewarm.

‘Not today.’ She seemed excited, cheerful. Not her usual self. I smelled a different perfume too.

‘Oh. Because . . .’

‘Execution Day!’ she said, and she actually smiled. She was happy. ‘You wanna see the crowds outside, Blondie. Whole lotta publicity on our little prison.’