Chapter Seven
Fall
T he stack of her letters had grown thicker and new ones arrived on a predictable schedule that gave rhythm and reason to his days. The prison itself had not changed—the reality of incarceration was as unpleasant and endless as it had always been—but the monotony had been broken. She wrote to him at least twice a week, usually not even waiting to receive a response to one letter before composing the next.
She’d gushed happily about her first weeks back at college, boundless in her enthusiasm for every experience. He knew she must be smart because she found the work stimulating and enjoyable. He loved to learn but always hated sitting in a classroom, and he was glad that she was different. That her life wasn’t a cage for her and that she was all of the bright and happy things, bringing the world joy where he had only ever brought pain.
Prison offered him few interesting things to discuss, so he answered her questions if she asked directly, but never volunteered more than necessary about his barren existence. He preferred to talk to her about her life, which was rich and vibrant and full.
To compensate, he continued to draw for her. Always cheerful things like flowers and sunsets and interesting faces that he remembered from before he came to this place. He wondered often what her face looked like, but he could never summon the courage to ask.
Alex had given up on mocking him for his ‘little girl pen pal’ when he realized how much Gabriel’s attitude had improved with the regular arrival of her letters. The lack of heat in Gabriel’s temper had turned Alex into her biggest fan.
“Mail from your girl,” he said now, handing it over and snorting out a laugh when Gabriel extended his middle finger in reply.
“I’m stuck in here for the rest of my life, remember? Not everyone is lucky enough to have an actual release date. Lucky bastard.”
“Some women are into that. Intimacy issues or some shit, right? Or maybe she can’t get a man on the outside.”
“Watch your mouth,” Gabriel warned. “You don’t know a damn thing about her.”
“Neither do you, really. Do you even know what she looks like?” Alex’s look was condescending, and he already knew the answer.
“No, I don’t,” Gabriel admitted, not really looking at Alex anymore, his gaze fixed on a spot of peeling paint beside his cellmate’s head, “but I know she’s smart and funny. She wouldn’t have any problem getting a boyfriend if she wanted one.”
Mia deserved to be loved. She was always positive and happy—who wouldn’t be drawn to that vibrant energy?
“Do you think he’ll try and stop her from talking to you if she does?”
“What?” Gabriel’s gaze snapped back into focus on Alex’s face.
“Would you want your girlfriend writing to some stranger? Especially one in here?” Alex gestured vaguely to their surroundings with a pointed look.
“Shut up, Alex,” he muttered, and Alex shrugged, his point made. Gabriel hadn’t thought about the implications of her being in a relationship, figuring that since she kept writing him after she went back to school that he was in the clear, at least for a while.
But Alex was right … If he had a girlfriend, he certainly wouldn’t want her to spend her time writing to a murderer.
He tucked his unease away as he opened her letter. There was nothing he could do about it now, so there was no use worrying about it.
Gabriel,
My classes are still going well. My humanities class has been the most interesting so far. The class focuses on learning about social issues and injustices. It’s been unpleasantly educational, but fortunately I wasn’t the only one in the class that was surprised by what we learned. There are so many horrible things most of us had never realized before.
We’ve spent two weeks focusing on the justice system, which made me think of you. There are significant problems, of course, with the structure of our laws and the way that they’re implemented, but one thing in particular caught my attention.
Did you know that you can still appeal your sentence if you were not properly represented? I don’t know all the details, but I know that something happened to you, something bad, and it was never brought up during the trial.
Your lawyers did almost nothing to defend you, they let you take the fall as an out-of-control rich kid and if you were abused or your lawyers had information about something that happened to you and they didn’t do anything about it, you could petition the court to reverse your conviction and let you go. It’s too late for you to just appeal the conviction (why is the deadline for that only thirty days after the trial ends anyway??) but it’s not too late to file a petition for a writ of habeas corpus. The constitution guarantees you a legal defense and if your lawyers didn’t do their jobs, then you have a legitimate reason to challenge the results of your trial.
I’m doing my semester paper on ways the public defense system fails the public because it’s infuriating and there are so many examples. My professor says that it’ll make a good paper because I feel so strongly about it, but I wish there were ways I could help people like you that have been unfairly treated in some way. Not just that you shouldn’t be in prison for life, which I really don’t think you should, but also the complete media frenzy around your trial. The judge shouldn’t have allowed all of that, Gabriel. You were a minor and you deserved protection and privacy.
It’s not much but I hope you’re doing well today, and every day, and you know that I’m always thinking of you. I try to cheer you up and let you experience as much of college and normal life as I can through these letters.
There are a million little things that I notice every day that I probably wouldn’t notice otherwise, because I keep track of them in my mind to share them with you.
She went on, and each word kept the smile on his face for another minute longer.
You’re right.
He’d written back to her about college and friendships but all he had said about something that could have altered the course of his entire life was—
You’re right. I tried to tell the lawyers and the guardian the court appointed for me about what happened, but they didn’t believe me and there was nothing I could do about it. I was sixteen and in prison, how was I supposed to track down witnesses?
I wanted to challenge the conviction after it happened, but I couldn’t. Did your classes tell you that Texas doesn’t offer public services after conviction? There was no way I could find a lawyer to represent me for free within that thirty-day deadline. I couldn’t file an appeal all those years ago and I can’t do anything about requesting a new trial now for the same reason. Petitioning the court would mean hiring lawyers I can’t afford.
She was still fuming the morning after reading it, tapping her finger in irritation on her thigh as she listened halfheartedly to the day’s lecture. Sure, maybe she should be glad that he’d resigned himself to the inevitable—since apparently there was not one single thing at all that he could do to change it—but that went against every instinct she possessed. It wasn’t right, it wasn’t fair, and he should not be made to suffer this way, no matter what he had done.
“Mia?”
“Hmm? Oh!” Mia looked around with dawning realization to find that most of the class had already filed out the door, leaving only her instructor. “I’m sorry,” she said, shoving her laptop and her water bottle in her bag and jumping to her feet. “I must not have been paying attention.”
“I was going to ask if you mind staying behind for a moment?” She smiled when Mia hesitated nervously. “I’d like to talk to you about your paper.”
Dr. Fischer had always been easygoing, and they all liked her well enough, but their final paper was worth a full 30% of their final course grade. “Is something wrong with the outline I turned in?” Mia asked when the door had closed behind the last student.
“Quite the opposite actually,” the professor responded, turning in her seat to face Mia with a wide smile. “I knew from our class discussions that this topic was something you were passionate about, but the paper that you are proposing is very in depth and already well researched. Truthfully, I’ve had many students come through my class with law school aspirations and not one of them was demonstrating work at this level.”
“Oh, thanks.” Mia shifted uncomfortably, tugging the strap of her backpack higher on her shoulder, and tightening her grip on the phone in her hand. “I appreciate that, but I’ve never even considered being a lawyer.”
Dr. Fischer nodded politely, but her eyes were keen. “Yes, I remember you said your primary interest right now was early childhood education. Is that right?” She waited for Mia’s mumbled agreement before continuing, “That’s an admirable field and I’m sure you’ll excel if that’s truly where your passions lie. I wouldn’t be doing my duty as your teacher, however, if I didn’t tell you that it would be a waste of your potential to go that route if your heart isn’t in it.”
“My heart is in helping people,” Mia told her honestly. “It’s in making a change in the world.”
She may have been uncertain of what exactly her future career might consist of, but that much she had always known. After all the challenges she had gone through in her life, it wouldn’t be right to hoard the gifts she had been given. She had been helped, and loved, and she wanted to pass that along to others.
Dr. Fischer looked at her for a moment before setting her glasses on top of her head and leaning back in her chair. “Not all lawyers are the bloodsucking leeches that you hear everyone making jokes about,” she said carefully. “There are two sides to every case, two sides to every policy. My husband is an environmental lawyer and works for a firm that handles litigation against companies that are engaging in pollution or destruction of habitat. There are also nonprofit organizations, pro bono cases, and many other ways that someone with an interest in the law could have a positive influence on the world.”
Mia tucked her bottom lip between her teeth, her mind flicked to Gabriel as she stood there, considering a possibility that had never occurred to her before. “I’ll think about it,” she promised.
“That’s all I can ask,” Dr. Fischer said with an encouraging smile. “And don’t forget about the quiz on Monday.” Mia recognized the dismissal when the professor turned back to her papers.
She said a hasty goodbye and slipped out the door, wondering if she still had time to catch Bryce and Lilly in the library and get some research done, and turning that way when she stepped outside onto the sidewalk. Her choice of college had been an easy one once Bryce had received a full-ride football scholarship. Lilly had wanted to go with Bryce, and Mia and Kennedy had both followed Lilly. There were other colleges close by that were just as good, but none of those had her friends and that had made the decision easy for all of them.
September had not done much to cool the air, and the leaves on the trees outside were still green, but something about being back at school always made things feel like fall. They’d be carving pumpkins and picking costumes by this time next month, and Lilly was already planning a Christmas toy drive for the prayer group.
After all, she’d insisted, you can’t start too soon on those types of things.
Mia knew everyone was hoping that she’d step in and do more for the group as Mrs. Mitchell got older. Her father was the pastor and her mother had run the group until she died, so it was a logical assumption but as happy as she was to provide snacks and chip in for events, Lilly was really the one that came up with the good ideas and enjoyed being involved in the planning.
It was something that had been tumbling around in her head for a while now. She was worried her father would be disappointed if he found out that she wasn’t living up to her mother’s precedent when it came to church involvement, but Lilly deserved more credit than she was being given. Maybe she could talk to Mrs. Mitchell about making Lilly an official co-leader for the group. If that wasn’t a thing, then Mia was sure they could make it one …
She set the thought aside when she swung open the heavy doors that led to the blessedly air-conditioned sanctuary of the library. She was sweating through her T-shirt from the short walk and paused gratefully just inside the large well-lit room, letting the cool air blow over her as she looked for her friends. She should have sent a text to ask if they’d be here, but she doubted Lilly would check her phone inside the library.
The large room was lined all around with shelves of books, with sections on the interior that divided the space into further book storage, rows of computers, and neat little tables that provided comfortable study space to a few dozen students. Mia passed several that seemed to have fallen asleep in their books, and she chuckled as she walked by.
Next to church, Mia had always thought that libraries were the most likely place to find God. There was always a feeling of quiet contemplation, an atmosphere of knowledge and wisdom and peaceful rest. Even though every library was different, the smell of books was always comfortingly the same. It was like an infinite number of homes waiting to welcome you in with the turn of a page.
Lilly and Bryce were already seated at a table, talking quietly as they leaned over an open textbook. They both looked up expectantly when she dropped into a chair across from them.
Mia leaned forward to whisper, “I had to stay and talk to my professor. She wanted to talk to me about my final paper.”
“She asked you to stay behind for that?” Lilly asked, peeking around to make sure no one was looking before stuffing a piece of chocolate in her mouth. “Isn’t it a little early to be worried about finals?”
She pressed a chocolate into Mia’s outstretched palm and Mia popped it into her mouth before answering. “I guess she also wanted to suggest that I look into changing my major and doing something law related, instead of teaching.”
Lilly laughed and shook her head. “You’ve never wanted to be anything but a teacher.”
“My dad wants me to be a teacher.”
“But isn’t that what you want, too? To be a teacher like your mom?”
“I’m not sure.” She pulled out her laptop and looked at them with a frown. “I figured my dad kinda knew what was best since I didn’t know what I wanted to do.”
“Law is pretty cool, I guess,” Lilly said. “Lots of years in school, though, and I’ve heard it’s very competitive.”
“Do you think I can’t get into law school?” Mia paused at that—she hadn’t considered the possibility that she might not be successful if she did decide to pursue it and she bristled a little at the thought.
“That’s not what I meant,” Lilly said, oblivious to the tumult going on in Mia’s mind. “I wonder if the motivation for law school will still be there, once you aren’t writing to Gabriel anymore.”
“What does Gabriel have to do with law school?” Mia asked, and Bryce turned to look at Lilly, also clearly wanting her to explain the connection she saw between the two.
“I assumed that’s where this sudden interest came from,” Lilly said, looking to Bryce for confirmation that her assumption made sense. He nodded and she sat back in her chair, appeased that he agreed with her.
“Maybe some of it,” Mia admitted, “but why would I stop writing to him?” She knew her tone was surly, but she had gotten tired of these conversations.
“I didn’t think you were gonna write to him forever because it was a charitable gesture, not a real friendship.”
“It is a real friendship,” Mia said defensively.
“Okay, maybe it is for now , but what are you going to do when you get a boyfriend that doesn’t want you writing to a convicted murderer that’s serving life in prison?”
“I wouldn’t want Lilly doing that,” Bryce said as he placed his hand protectively over Lilly’s. “It sounds dangerous.”
“I guess it’s a good thing I don’t have a boyfriend,” Mia snapped, loudly enough to have heads turning in the quiet room.
Lilly leaned forward to whisper, “Not yet, but you want one, right?”
“I’m not interested in dating,” Mia insisted stubbornly, ignoring that she had seen plenty of attractive men on campus that she might have considered dating if they had asked prior to this very irritating conversation.
“Yeah? What about James Prescott?”
Mia leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms over her chest. “What about him?”
“Oh, come on!” Lilly prodded. “You’ve always been interested in James and surely you’ve noticed how much he’s been at your house lately?’
“Talking to my dad—” Mia began.
“And looking at you.” Bryce said, wiggling his brows suggestively. “I think someone has caught his attention.”
“He doesn’t look at me like that,” Mia sputtered.
“He has no reason not to,” Lilly reminded her with a pointed look. “And I wouldn’t be surprised if your dad was really supportive. He loves James, and he knows James would be a good husband. He’s always been nice and he’s a stable guy, isn’t he? You’d have a good life.”
She absolutely would, Mia knew that. James wasn’t the kind of man to raise his voice or his hand. He was great with kids and loved animals. He worshiped God and respected his mother and would provide his wife with a nice house and a large family. Mia had always wanted that—a home and kids of her own.
Lilly’s expression was grave as Mia nibbled uncertainly on her bottom lip. “You know how he’d feel about Gabriel and this law school stuff. If he’s going to be the pastor at a church of his own, he’s going to need a wife that can help with that. It’s something for you to think about.”