The mafia heiress revenge
ned, her expres
r. Patterson. If we can'
o consider a plea barga
ainst you, it may
this isn't th
continued, her tone so
way to prove your innoce
long prison sentence. Wit
as innocent. It's better
ict and spend the rest
in his chair, t
n him. Was it possibl
is wife, her b
ing her dress-it was a vis
him, taunting him, chall
ut
maybe I di
embling. "Maybe I kille
't want to go to prison, b
ook he
d him solem
on, the decision to plea
e sure, absolutely certai
you are innocent, I will c
if you have any doubt, eve
sider a ple
d with unshed
felt like he was standin
om falling i
t would happ
lty
folder in fro
ssional. "If you plead g
a reduced sentence. It wo
ificant one, but it would
itionally, you would avoid
media attention and publi
h i
eeling as thoug
doubt. "And... and what
nnoce
sympathetic, ye
en a plea bargain would
. You would be sacrific
didn't commit, and there
stating. But if you are gu
k of being convicted of a
ce. The choice, ult
through the c
rm a constant reminder o
old, echoing hallways seem
d, the life he had taken f
host, his eyes vacant and
mates, their taunts and
noise of hi
as subjected to
n line for mealtimes, h
, tasteless slop onto his
, the chatter and laugh
able langu
ndatory counse
efusing to acknowledge the
r and violence that erup
tervene, barely registered
into months. The seasons
de, time seemed
fixture in t
the chaos. His lack of r
a shield against the cr
omething was stirring. A t
egan to burn
the lunch table
d done countless times bef
ing across from him, los
lat
" the inma
m his reverie. "You're
led his
is gaze vacant
d simply, his
ed forward, his
"I'm Sam.
de. I'm gon
s voice dropping to a
type to do something li
here. I'm sure you've hea
appened that night
eep breath, h
mixture of pain, grief, a
l in a long time. "I..
and hoarse. "I don't kn
gail was gone. I found her
nd now I'm here, trapped
even know who
on softened, a
ered features. "Look, m
ou gotta hold on
," he said,
did it, but you can't r
t, but you're so deep i
om the fiction in your hea
the tru