“Inmates in the prison’s garment shop were given a new task: manufacturing eighty thousand masks for prisoners and officers throughout the state. A woman named Carrie Coleman told me that her son had sewn masks at Cummins for two days while he had a fever and chills. (It wasn’t until he had a temperature of a hundred and four degrees that he was carried to the infirmary.) Marie said that the masks kept falling off her face; when she talked, she sucked the material into her mouth. Then she noticed that the wardens and deputy wardens were secretly wearing masks they’d brought from home underneath the state-issued ones.” The New Yorker’s Rachel Aviv takes you into a a penitentiary with one of the country’s largest coronavirus outbreaks, where prison terms become death sentences.