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I sigh, but her eyes slowly open and shut.
“Can you see me?”
She blinks.
“Are you trying to talk?”
She blinks again.
“Okay, wait.” I roll over to a chair and pick up a notepad. I write out the letters of the alphabet in three rows, and roll back over to her side.
“Don’t struggle to talk,” I say. “Just blink when I have the right letter, okay?”
She blinks, and I smile.
“Is the first letter a vowel?”
Yes.
“Okay, good,” I say. “I’m going to point all those out one by one…”
She falls asleep after giving me two letters, but hours later she awakes and gives me one more.
It takes a week, because on some days she doesn’t wake up at all and the doctors have to run more tests, but she manages to spell out a message.
I need a favor. Letters.
43
EASTON
The handcuffs on my wrists are too loose.
The officer who fastened them kept looking as if he was embarrassed to do so.
I refuse to complain about that, though…
I’m currently sitting in the inmate phone bank, across from Scarlett and Tully’s father, separated by glass. I’ve rejected most visitor requests with the exception of my dad and my lawyer, and I’m grateful that the local news is banned on all the jail’s televisions.
“We may have to consider some specialty care for Scarlett given something that came to light this morning.” His voice is soft. “I mean, she’s not a complete vegetable and we won't know all our options just yet, but… Tully is able to move around more now. I figured you’d want to know.”
I say nothing.
“Our entire town and the university is on your side,” he says. “You had a totally normal reaction in defending someone you loved.”
“This new prosecutor is just trying to make a name for herself. She'll never get support from anyone after this, and the new guy will definitely get you out of here if the trial doesn’t do it first.”
“I think me being in here is for the best.”
"You need to be playing on that field, son. That’s what’s best for you and your future.”
“I don’t have a future.” I shake my head holding back tears at the thought of not having more days with Scarlett. "I don't have anything to live for anymore.
“Don’t say that,” he says. “I doubt there’s any jury who will convict you once you plead not guilty and go to trial.”
“Iampleading guilty,” I say. “My lawyer worked out a deal for three to ten on assault charges. Medium security prison. That beats risking a jury and a mandatory twenty five to thirty murder charge in Angola Prison.”
“What? Are you out of your fucking mind?”
