“Not in here,” Bo said. “I know that people can see inside this cell behind that glass wall, and y’all are probably videoing or at least tape recording everything that happens. We’ll use the attorney room.” He turned to Hank. “If that’s OK?”

Hank nodded and gestured to the young deputy. “I’ll escort Mr. Haynes to the consultation area. You bring General Lewis.”

“Yes sir,” the deputy said.

Bo turned to follow Hank, but Sack’s voice stopped him. “After you speak with your client, let’s talk.”

“Oh, we’ll be talking,” Bo said as he exited the cell. “You can count on it.”

Five minutes later, Helen was escorted into the attorney consultation room of the Giles County Jail. The room wasn’t much bigger than a closet but had the same yellow cinder block walls. In the middle of the tiny space sat a square-shaped folding table and two aluminum chairs. Bocephus Haynes leaned forward in one of the chairs with a yellow notepad and pen in front of him.

Once in the room, Helen shuffled toward him, finding it hard to walk in the prison-issue sliders that adorned her feet.

“Sheriff said y’all could have as much time as you need,” the deputy said.

“Thank you,” Bo said, standing as Helen approached the table. Once the door was safely closed shut, he smiled, but Helen could tell it was forced. “I don’t believe I’ve ever seen you in orange, General.” He held out a hand but she ignored it.

“It doesn’t appear that you dressed up for the occasion either.”

Bo squinted at her. “I don’t suit up for client meetings at the jail.”

“Who says I’m your client? I thought I told you last night that I had decided not to hire you.”

“You said a lot of things last night.” He licked his lips. “I chose to ignore that part.”

“What about all that talk about not being able to represent me? Been out of the game too long. I’d be better off with someone else. Taking my case would hurt your chance at regaining custody of your kids, yada, yada, yada. What’s changed?”

He took a step closer to her. “I think it’s time I start being me again.”

She gave her head a jerk. “Like I said at the farm,” Helen started. “You’re scared of being you.”

“No, that’s not exactly true. I wasn’t scared of being me. I was scared for everyone else.” He paused. “I tend to leave a wake.”

Helen felt a charge of something as she gazed into his eyes, which were as black as coal. Adrenaline maybe? Or perhaps it was hope. She closed her eyes. “And now?”

“Outside of my kids, I don’t care anymore.”