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He had been involved in drug dealings and had become an errand boy for a notorious gang, all in a desperate bid to secure medical treatment for his ailing sister.
I remembered our conversation clearly, the pain and helplessness in his eyes as he spoke of his desperate attempts to break free from the clutches of the Esposito family. They had held his sister's life as leverage, refusing to release him from their dangerous business.
The accusation of murder against him had stemmed from a dramatic confrontation where he had attempted to secure his freedom by force, wielding a gun to defend himself. The encounter had resulted in a threat from the Esposito family, a promise to make him pay for his defiance.
As the pieces of the puzzle fell into place, I couldn't help but feel a surge of empathy for Frederick, caught in the ruthless grip of organized crime. His intentions had been pure, his actions driven by a brother's love.
The desperation in his voice, the fear for his sister's life, it had all been painfully real. It was clear that he had been framed, made an example of in a complex game of power and manipulation.
I recounted the frustrating turn of events to Enzo, my voice carrying the pain as my team’s collective efforts had ultimately fallen short. Despite our tireless work, we had been unable to substantiate Frederick's innocence, leading to his unjust imprisonment.
As I flipped through the file, I stumbled upon the contact information for Frederick and his sister, Isabella. A spark of hope coursed through me as I proposed the idea of introducing Isabella to Enzo. I emphasized that with Frederick's lengthy sentence, it was unlikely he would be out of prison anytime soon.
Enzo sighed, his apprehension palpable, but he didn't outrightly dismiss the notion.
With a sly grin, I swiftly dialed Isabella's number, my fingers tapping impatiently as I awaited her response.
With a sense of anticipation, I heard Isabella's voice on the other end.
"Hello, this is Isabella. Who's calling?" she inquired, her tone reserved and cautious.
I introduced myself as the lawyer who had handled her brother's case, noting the lack of enthusiasm in her response, which I had expected.
As Isabella inquired about the purpose of my call, I explained to her that I had stumbled upon a case similar to her brother's and was hoping to gather more information.
I delicately broached the topic, asking if she would be willing to meet briefly and share any insights she might have. Isabella's next words, however, stopped me in my tracks.
"He's dead," she uttered, her voice heavy with sorrow.
My shock was palpable as her words hung heavily in the air. Fredrick's death was unexpected, and the news hit me with a crippling force. My mind raced with questions, trying to piece together the circumstances of his death. How had he died in prison? The uncertainty gnawed at me as I took a moment to gather my thoughts before responding.
"I'm deeply sorry for your loss, Isabella. I had no idea," I offered, hoping to convey my genuine sympathy. Despite the unexpected turn, I pressed on, mustering the courage to request a meeting.
"Would it be possible for us to meet and discuss what happened? It would greatly help my current case," I added, hoping to convey the importance of the matter at hand.
Isabella hesitated for a moment before conceding, "I suppose we could meet briefly. There's not much I know, but I'll try to help."
Her willingness to assist despite her evident grief was both admirable and heartrending.
"Thank you, Isabella. Your help means a lot."
Enzo and I navigated our way through the bustling streets, eventually arriving at the quaint cafe that Isabella had suggested. The cafe's exterior exuded an inviting charm, with its rustic brick walls adorned with ivy and its warm lighting that spilled out onto the sidewalk.
A faint aroma of freshly brewed coffee wafted through the air, adding to the cozy ambiance of the place.
As we stepped inside, the gentle hum of conversations enveloped us, punctuated by the occasional clink of cutlery against ceramic. The interior was adorned with an eclectic mix of wooden furniture, giving the space a homely and comfortable feel. Soft jazz music played in the background, providing a soothing backdrop to the scene.
I spotted a woman, who I guessed was Isabella, seated at a small, round table near the back. We made our way over, the scent of coffee beans growing stronger with each step. The woman appeared slightly nervous, her fingers tracing an invisible pattern on the table as she waited.
"Isabella?" I inquired softly as we approached, and she looked up and nodded, her eyes reflecting a mixture of apprehension and curiosity.
Enzo and I introduced ourselves, taking the seats opposite her with a warm smile, trying to put her at ease.
"Isabella, hi. I'm Griselda, and this is Enzo," I said with a sympathetic smile as we settled into the seats opposite her.
Isabella nodded with a polite greeting.
After a brief pause, Isabella spoke up, her voice tinged with sadness, "My brother passed away a few days ago quite unexpectedly."
