Fox River
“He had already eaten the requisite ounces of scrambled eggs and grits and a biscuit that was harder than Milk Bones. His second cup of coffee had been stronger than dishwater, and for once, more palatable. He hoped this was an omen for the day ahead.
“Carver…” The guard, a thin, furtive-looking man, jerked his head toward the door. “Warden wants to see you.”
Since Peter and Mel’s visit yesterday, Christian had thought of little besides the possibility of acquittal. Now, to his chagrin, ...his heart jumped in his chest, and not because the coffee had more than a wisp of caffeine in it.
He buttoned his work shirt as he walked half a step in front of the guard through the maze of corridors and checkpoints, making sure not to crowd the man or make him nervous. Prison life was a compromise between pride and common sense. A man gave up the parts of himself that didn’t really matter and held on to everything else he could.MoreLess
“Carver…” The guard, a thin, furtive-looking man, jerked his head toward the door. “Warden wants to see you.”
Since Peter and Mel’s visit yesterday, Christian had thought of little besides the possibility of acquittal. Now, to his chagrin, ...his heart jumped in his chest, and not because the coffee had more than a wisp of caffeine in it.
He buttoned his work shirt as he walked half a step in front of the guard through the maze of corridors and checkpoints, making sure not to crowd the man or make him nervous. Prison life was a compromise between pride and common sense. A man gave up the parts of himself that didn’t really matter and held on to everything else he could.MoreLess
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