Vida Mehrannia last spoke to her husband, Ahmadreza Djalali, on March 3, when he called from inside Iran’s notorious Evin Prison, as bombs rained down on Tehran.

“The connection was very bad, and it kept disconnecting, but he called me back, and we talked for maybe two minutes,” she told Foreign Policy.

It was the first time they’d been able to speak since the United States and Israel launched attacks on Iran on Feb. 28.

Djalali, a Swedish Iranian scientist, was arrested by the regime in 2016 during a visit to an Iranian university for an academic workshop. He was later convicted of espionage and sentenced to death, a charge refuted by international investigations. His family has been appealing for his release for almost a decade. Today, he’s just one of thousands of political prisoners at risk in Iran, both from U.S. and Israeli airstrikes and from a vengeful Iranian regime.

“He told me that they hear the explosions [from the bombs] close by, but the gates to their wards are locked shut, so they can’t go anywhere in case there’s fire or bombs,” Mehrannia said.

Iran’s prison population has been swollen since January, when a mass crackdown on protesters saw thousands of civilians massacred in the streets and tens of thousands arrested. A digital shutdown has made it hard to get accurate information out of the country, but according to the Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps’ own admission in late January, intelligence and security forces had summoned at least 11,000 people, while a judicial spokesperson said more than 10,000 people were referred for prosecution and 8,843 indictments were issued by Feb. 17. However, human rights organizations say the number of detainees from the recent protests could be as high as 50,000, including minors.

Since the Israeli-U.S. attacks began, the regime has shut down the internet and limited communications. As information seeps out in trickles, family members of political prisoners outside Iran are deeply worried over the fate of their loved ones, unable to find safety or shelter amid increasing bombings.

Evin, which Mehrannia described as a “little caged city,” has a dark history of abuse of inmates, especially political protesters, dissenters, members of the opposition, and even journalists.

Located in northern Tehran, Evin is believed to hold “roughly 1,500 to 2,000 detainees,” according to researchers at Iran Human Rights Monitor (Iran HRM). The facility is sometimes even referred to as “Evin University” for the number of academics imprisoned there.

Several reports and books have described dire conditions inside Evin, with accounts of mistreatment and torture—which can at times be fatal.

Some prisoners who have managed to reach their families since the attacks have shared how conditions have deteriorated even further.

“Last Saturday [Feb. 28], we received news that no food has been distributed since that morning in the women’s ward of Evin Prison. Prisoners have only been given a limited amount of bread,” said Maryam Fakhar, a senior analyst at Iran HRM.

According to a March 6 report by Amnesty International, the electronic cards that prisoners must top up to purchase food and water from prison shops have stopped working.

Prisoners are also describing severe overcrowding and deteriorating sanitary conditions, Iran HRM confirmed from verified reports. “They are being denied or delayed medical care, even as interrogations continue. Phone calls and visitation rights are restricted,” Fakhar said.

Djalali shared similar observations with his wife, saying that many guards had abandoned their posts and that prisoners “weren’t receiving food or supplies.” According to some reports, the NOPO special police unit has taken control of Evin Prison.

“There used to be a grocery store inside the facility, but that has also been closed since the bombings started. … He [Djalali] has some old bread with him for now that he’s been saving,” Mehrannia said, the worry evident in her voice.

Although it doesn’t seem as if prisons are being targeted in the strikes, Iranian activists say, there are reports that some facilities have been damaged, including Evin and several prisons in Ahwaz.

On March 3, the same day Mehrannia spoke to her husband, part of the wall of Evin Prison was struck, according to reports verified by Iran HRM.

“The area around Imam Hossein University in Tehran and a section of the wall of Evin Prison were targeted in a missile attack, and part of the prison wall was destroyed,” Fakhar said, adding that there was no confirmed information about injuries among prisoners.

In Qarchak, a women’s prison known for its poor conditions and human rights abuses, “they are in a critical situation,” Fakhar said. “Since the escalation of the attacks, administrative and medical staff have left their posts, leaving prisoners facing shortages of drinking water and uncertainty in managing their daily needs.” Most of the staff at the Chabahar and Konarak prisons, in Iran’s Sistan and Baluchestan province, have also reportedly abandoned their posts, according to Fakhar.

Some prisoners have reportedly been moved, and a handful have been released. “There have also been reports that some inmates from Ward 209 have been transferred to an unknown location,” said Homa Fathi, an Iranian academic and activist based in Canada, referring to a high-security facility in Evin with a history of solitary confinement and torture.

“In Dastgerd Prison, in Isfahan, a number of political prisoners, including Mr. Heshmatollah Tabarzadi, were transferred to unknown locations,” she noted, referring to a renowned Iranian journalist who has been in prison, often in solitary confinement, since the 2009 Green Movement protests.

In fact, according to the Committee to Protect Journalists, at least 15 journalists, Iranian and foreign, are behind bars in Iran.

With the regime under assault and internal accusations of espionage or treason common—or even crimes against god—political prisoners are an easy target for anger and revenge. Activists monitoring the situation say they are unable to determine how many prisoners are at risk. “Because the authorities conceal data and frequently transfer detainees, the exact figure cannot be independently verified,” Fakhar said, but experts estimate that thousands of political prisoners are likely being held across prisons and detention centers in Iran.

“On the evening of March 3, the Basij center near the Mahbad prison was bombed, and military forces, using violence and tear gas, attempted to gather the prisoners into a more confined space,” said Fathi, the academic.

Fathi maintains a comprehensive list of detained health care workers who’ve been arrested over the years, including those who were detained after the recent mass demonstrations for helping injured protesters.

“I can tell you that around 100 health care professionals that I know of have been arrested, and around half of them have been released on bail,” Fathi said. “Accusations against them are unclear in many cases and baseless. In many cases, even their families don’t know where they are being held.

“The Islamic Republic has a clear history of abusing and killing detainees and prisoners,” Fathi added, noting that there were reports that some prisoners had been moved to the basement of existing prison facilities for torture. The regime reportedly executed 353 prisoners between Jan. 20 and Feb. 18, following the killing of protesters on the street, an Iranian opposition group has claimed. Activists fear a repeat of the 1988 massacres, in which thousands of political prisoners were executed toward the end of the Iran-Iraq War.

Amnesty International noted in a March 3 report that concerns for prisoner safety rise from historical evidence where “Iranian authorities have often used armed conflict as pretext to subject dissidents to intensified patterns of torture … as well as summary, arbitrary or extrajudicial executions.

“Concerns for the rights of people in Iran are compounded by the Iranian authorities’ well-documented record to repeated crimes under international law and other serious human rights violations, including during successive lethal crackdowns to eradicate dissent,” the Amnesty report noted, calling for a release of political prisoners.

U.N. officials have expressed similar concerns. On March 4, a Human Rights Council probe warned that Iranian prisoners, including detained protesters, faced expedited death penalty proceedings. The probe’s panel of independent rights experts cited credible reports “that many [prisoners in Iran] are at serious risk of torture, ill-treatment and enforced disappearances.”

“That’s why it’s important to say their names,” Fathi said. “Otherwise, they become just no one, and it’s easier to kill them.”

Mehrannia, who has been advocating for the release of her husband for almost a decade, fears that he is particularly vulnerable. “He had a heart attack last year, and earlier he went on a hunger strike three times during his detention to protest the treatment of prisoners. He lost a lot of weight; he was just skin and bone,” she recalled.

Family members and activists have joined the call for the release of political prisoners across Iran. “Resolution 211 of Iran’s Supreme Judicial Council [adopted in January 1987, a year before the 1988 massacres] is a directive requiring the judiciary to protect prisoners’ lives during wartime or emergencies,” Fakhar of Iran HRM noted.

Not doing so, she said, constitutes a crime against humanity.

“It has been 10 long years,” Mehrannia said, sounding exhausted and scared. “We have been fighting this situation we are in. My husband is serving a sentence even though he is innocent. And now he is in a situation, under attack. This is not normal. This is not OK.”