Page 36 of In Death, Love Survives
“That’s what I like to hear. After this, we can discuss if you’d like to start any individual sessions back up,” I say with a warm smile.
“Thanks, Dr. Fletcher.”
As the few remaining prisoners enter, my heart sinks as I scan the room for Wolfe.
“Thank you all for being here today,” I start.
An officer opens the door wide, and in comes Wolfe with Officer Walls.
My eyebrows furrow together in suspicion. Why is Walls bringing Wolfe in separately like this?
Wolfe’s eyes are fixed on mine as Walls focuses on Wolfe’s back.
“Mr. Walker. A pleasure to have you join us for your first group today.”
“Thank you for having me,” he answers gruffly.
“All good, Walls?” I ask, turning my attention to him.
“I’ll see you after,” he replies.
“Okay…”
I’m familiar enough with Walls to know that something must be wrong with Wolfe.
“Please take a seat,” I say to Wolfe.
He sits down, with his familiar domineering stature of widespread legs and broad frame taking up more space than he needs.
As he settles in, I observe the dynamic shift from Wolfe’s presence. Clearly, Toby has some connection to him, as he looks the most comfortable nearby. The seat on the opposite side of Wolfe remains empty.
Huh.
Although, I suppose it isn’t that strange for everyone to know about his role and affiliations outside of Roper State.
Maybe Wolfe has already taken a leadership role within the prison. These fellow prisoners aren’t afraid of him; they’re respectful. Even the few I see with slightly elevated nerves seem to be acting this way.
“Thank you all for being brave enough to show up for yourself today,” I start.
I scan the room as each person gives me a nod of some kind in acknowledgment. I cross my legs, letting the wide leg of my pants spread slightly at the ankles and my jet-black heels show.
“I thought we’d start today as usual, and anyone who would like to share how they are feeling today can take the floor.”
I smile around the room, and my eyes catch on a tense Wolfe. His jaw is tight, and dare I say, his eyes seem like they’ve darkened from moments ago.
“Anyone?” I ask.
I can’t focus solely on Wolfe in this setting, despite the pull I feel just by being around him once again.
“I’ll go,” Rim says with a slight wave of a hand.
“Rim. Thank you.”
He runs his hands along the length of his pant legs and lets out a long breath.
“I’m a seven today. Next week is my first time up for parole, and I’m anxious.”
“Please continue,” I say.
