Page 69 of Only Fate

My heart nearly bursts at his words.

Adrian: I’m sorry. I had to get that off my chest, especially if I’m losing you.

Me: Can we talk after finals? Maybe you can come to my dorm?

Adrian: I’ll be there.

But that doesn’t happen.

I never get to tell Adrian my truth or that I love him back because he stops talking to me three days later. At first, I blamed his lack of response on finals week.

But after two weeks, I know he’s gone. River tells me he moved out of the dorm while he was away for the weekend. He deactivated his social media and changed his number.

It’s as if my secret best friend, the man I was falling in love with, never existed.

23

Present Day

Iswerve into a parking spot and check my phone for what feels like the billionth time for any word from Essie.

Nothing.

I gulp down the last of my coffee and rub my tired eyes. I spent the entire night poring over Earl’s file and combing through every online detail.

Holding my attorney badge, I walk toward the prison, the golden sunrise above me.

The officer at the front desk eats a muffin as I sign in as Earl’s representation to speak with him. Guilt swirls in my stomach.

I should tell Essie I’m here.

But even if I tried, she’s ignoring my calls.

And this isn’t something I can text.

A guard leads me into a room that reeks of mildew and sweat. Since I specialize in family law, interviewing incarcerated clients is uncharted territory for me.

Two guards escort Earl into the room. His hands and ankles are shackled. As he sits across from me, I blink at him. He’s aged since his mug shot.

He settles his arms on the table and waits for me to speak.

“I’m Adrian with the Prison Exoneration Program,” I introduce. “I’m here to help you with your case.”

He stares at me with gratefulness. “I appreciate you coming, Adrian, and that the PEP is taking my case.” There’s a deep pain in his voice.

“Did you do it?”

It’s a stupid question. He applied for the program’s help, so why would he admit guilt? But it’s one I need to ask for my own sake.

“Hell no, I didn’t do it.” This time, instead of pain, there’s a slight twang in his voice. “I’m innocent.”

“It’s a question I had to look you in the eyes and ask.” I stare at him while opening the folder. “Tell me your story.”

“My story is that I’m innocent. Someone set me up.”

I run my thumb along a paper clip. “Why would someone set you up?”

“I was the easiest to blame. I made a few mistakes, and everyone in Blue Beech automatically decided I was some creep. Who better to point your finger at?”

---