He sat back in his chair, schooling his features. Keisha cleared her throat. “As vivid of a picture as this paints…I don’t think the court will put too much stock in a felon’s stories from over a decade ago. This man has been in and out of jail since he was seventeen. Anna has never had another issue with the law. In fact, we have people right now, looking to overturn her conviction. The case had major holes in it and wasn’t prosecuted correctly.”

I straightened in my chair, whispering to Mason. “What?”

He took my hand again, his thumb brushing back and forth across my knuckles. “They’re looking into it. I didn’t think Keisha should get your hopes up before we knew more.”

Annoyance and gratitude battled within me. “I want to know everything. Even if something’s a longshot. Remember what you said. This only works if we’re honest.”

“No fair throwing my perfectly sensible words back at me.”

Mr. Paisley straightened in his chair. “Ms. Foley may have only been convicted once, but when a judge has a choice between a couple with a sterling record and a woman who’s been to juvenile detention and lived in a homeless shelter for most of her life, who do you think he’s going to choose?”

My stomach hollowed at the mention of my home. Whose fault was it that a homeless shelter had been my only option? And what did they know about the beautiful life I’d built at Hope House? Nothing. They only had their judgement and anger.

Things only devolved from there. The ping-pong match between Keisha and Mr. Paisley only succeeded in giving me a headache. No agreement was reached, and my parents and their lawyer left in a huff. Keisha assured us that everything was good. We had a much clearer picture of what we were up against, and she was ready to fight.

I could barely take her words in, my head hurt so badly. The pulse of my heart seemed to have taken root there, thrumming an angry beat. Mason kept a hand on my lower back as he led me out of the building and helped me into his SUV. “You okay?”

“My head’s killing me.”

“Do you want some Tylenol? I think I have some in the first-aid kit in the glove box.”

Of course, he did. Mason was prepared for everything. He was basically a grown-up version of a Boy Scout.

“I don’t think my stomach would handle it too well.” It was already churning. I needed a soda and some food before anything.

“All right. Why don’t I just get you home?”