Sarah feels nothing for me anymore, I know this, and I can’t say that I blame her. Even if by some miracle she is able to get me off, we’ll never have what we had before—if we had anything at all. I’m not so sure anymore. Was I just convenient, a warm body to come home to? No, I’m sure there was love before, but I look at her now… and I think I’ve hurt her to the point where there’s no going back. She does still have feelings for me, but those feelings are overpowered by feelings of hatred, anger, sadness, regret. Will I survive this? I don’t know. Will we survive this? Probably not.

Our meeting yesterday didn’t end well, thanks in part to my mother’s comments. After Sarah told me they were officially charging me, she and Mom left for dinner. I can’t imagine that meal went well.

A guard smacks his baton against the bars of my cell. “You’ve got a visitor.”

I stand up and drag my feet across the floor. I really don’t care to speak to anyone, but visitors and time in the rec room are the only things that break up the hours while I’m here. I follow the officer until we’re standing in front of the interrogation room. He opens the door, and there’s a man with a blond buzz cut sitting in the chair. His back is to me. New lawyer, I think. Perhaps Sarah finally decided enough was enough, and my mom hired a new attorney. I pass him and when I sit down to take my seat across from him, it’s then that I find out who he is. Scott Summers. I try to stand back up to leave.

“Relax, I’m just here to talk.” He puts his hands up trying to show that he is not a threat to me. His voice is deep and husky. It’s the first time that I’ve heard him speak. Last time we met, his fists did all the talking. I look back to the guard and then back at the chair deciding.

“It’s up to you, Adam. I’m not going to force you to sit here,” the guard says. We all exchange looks and then I decide to take a seat. If anything, maybe Scott will slip up, and I’ll uncover something that’ll help my case. What do I have to lose? My life? At this point, I wouldn’t consider it much of a loss anyway.

“Thanks,” Scott says.

“No funny business, Scott. I’m breaking a few rules by having you here, so don’t screw me over. I’ll be on the other side of this door. You’ve got twenty minutes.” The guard steps out and closes the door behind him.