One morning, a week after I went to prison, the guards told me I could meet my lawyer in 10 minutes. I tried to control my excitement, hoping that Tommy would bring me some good news during this meeting.
The guards took me to the visiting room. This time, Frade came with Tommy. I can't be too excited, because the guards are watching next to us.
Frade looked at me deeply, and I could see the worry in his eyes. As I sat down, Frade pretended to hold a pen and write in a notebook. I guess he was pretending to be Tommy's assistant, so he was allowed to come with Tommy to see me.
“Based on the evidence we have so far, Lydia was indeed pronounced dead the day after she fell and was brought to the hospital,” Tommy said in a difficult tone, pausing for a long moment before continuing. “The chances of winning this case are slim.”
Frade was silent. He wanted to say something but held back. I knew he was worried about the guards.
