Sarah came to see me today. I’ve wanted to see her for so long, I’ve lost count of how many years it’s been. And now here she finally is, right in front of me, and it feels… bittersweet. She doesn’t seem to be herself, at least not the Sarah I remember. She is cold and disinterested. And for some reason, she keeps squeezing my hand in a way that doesn’t convey love or affection but rather, something else. At first, I thought it was for comfort, whether for her or me, I wasn’t sure. But the timing of the squeezes is off. No, actually the timing of them is perfect, right down to the second. One every single minute. Why is she doing that? I know this isn’t an easy day, I should fucking know more than anyone, but… it doesn’t seem to be affecting her, at all.

She looks beautiful today. It’s almost painful to take in, given the circumstances. Her hair hangs freely down to her shoulders, and her lips and nails are painted a bright red. She’s dressed in all white, like an angel, but it hardly seems appropriate the more that I think about it. I choke up thinking about her and me together and all the time that we lost. The fact is that once she walks out this door, I will never see her again. I’ve tried not thinking about it all these years. Sure, I knew this day would have to come eventually, but it’s not something you want to dwell on. Lethal injection for a crime I did not commit. That last part is what stings the most.

No further evidence was ever found in my case, so my fate has remained unchanged. It was the perfect crime and the perfect set-up by whoever did this. I gave up hope a long time ago, yet for some reason, I thought on this day, maybe by some miracle, Sarah would walk in with a bombshell discovery to blow the lid off whatever conspiracy was sealing me in; my knight in shining armor here to save me. Her outfit certainly matched the part.

I know now that won’t be happening for me. My life is already over, I’m just on borrowed time, walking dead through these halls. Perhaps in the afterlife, if there even is one, I’ll learn the truth of what happened to Kelly Summers and finally have some peace about all of this. But probably not.

She squeezes my hand again. It’s the sixth time. I’ve been counting.

“So, did you move on?” I finally work up the courage to ask.

“I don’t think anyone ever truly moves on from something like this, Adam.”

She’s been answering with these vague “non-answers” the whole time she’s been here. Not letting me back in for even a second. Her defense systems are fully activated.