The officer opens the door and gestures me inside. Files in hand I adjust my collar and walk in. The door shuts with a loud pop, the stuffy air feeling almost oppressive.

The small room is lit with overhead light, it gives off a sterile glow, washing out all the color.

The man handcuffed to the metal table in the middle of the room looks up, his orange jumpsuit almost looking sickly green.

He straightens up, although he can’t shake away the worry lines etched into his pale forehead.

“Mr Gable?” I ask as I pull out the opposing chair. He gives a curt nod, a quiver in his lip. “I’m James Becker, your court appointed attorney.” I place down my stack of files and open the one at the top. I skim a few lines, my fingers drum against the table. Gable shifts nervously, his cuffs clinking.

“I’m gonna be honest Mr Gable, this isn’t gonna be easy,” I say as I glance back at him. “Lots of evidence, cameras, witnesses, dna…All points to you.”

His sweaty hands clench. “It was an accident-“

He starts, his voice high and breathless.

I raise my hand and stop him. “That right there is gonna get you 50 to life, Peter. Can I call you Peter? Listen, we got a good chance here. If… we play our cards right.”

“Got any history of mental illness? Voices, hallucinations?” I ask, a brow raised.

He looks down at his hands, and shakes his head. His knee bouncing up and down.

I rub my temple, a sigh escaping my lips.

“They…they said I’d get a lesser sentence if I plead guilty.” He says softly, his wide eyes raising to meet mine.”

“Jesus Christ, Peter, that’s how they get you,” I say, my voice rising with exasperation. “You might get the chance of parole after 30 years, bud.”

He looks down again, taking in a shuttering breath.

I stare at him, my fingers drumming against the table once more.

“Listen bud, there’s…well maybe another option, but it’s not free.”

He looks up enthusiastically. “S-shit I’ll take anything at this point”

I smile and grab the little black book from my inner breast pocket. “It just requireds your signature, and I promise, you won’t be going to jail.”

“Just…just like that?”

“Yep, just gonna make a deal.”

           ………………

I close the door loudly, muffling the screaming voice of Peter and the officers attempting to sedate him.

I hum as I walk down the hall and out of the holding area.

“Mr Becker?” A soft feminine voice calls from behind me. I turn, seeing an elder woman with tired eyes.

“I’m Sarah Lee, I believe you’re representing…Gable..?” Tears well up in her eyes, her voice shaking.

“Ah Ms Lee, my condolences,” I say sorrowfully. “Yes I’m representing Mr Gable.”

“Please Mr Becker, if you are a decent man of any kind, please I beg you,” She chokes back a sob, she moves her hands in front of her, pleading. “Please don’t let that monster go free.” Her voice turns bitter.

I smile, my fingers thrumming against my black book. “Let’s make a deal.”