“Can’t prove it. But, yeah, that’s my working theory. If I can show a pattern … show he was the threat … Faith’s actions start looking a lot more like survival than murder.” I paused.
Knox studied me for a long moment. “So, you do think it was self-defense?”
“I believe she didn’t mean to kill him. But I don’t have proof, Knox. I have a feeling. All the facts? They point to her guilt.”
“Facts lie all the time. You know that better than anyone.”
“What if I’m wrong? What if she actually did plan it, and I’m risking your freedom on a hunch?” The words tasted bitter. I didn’t believe them to be true, but I had to at least acknowledge the risk we were all taking here. “God forbid she’s guilty, and I leave you out to dry for nothing. I’d never forgive myself.”
“If she killed someone, she probably had a damn good reason.” Knox’s certainty was absolute.
“You don’t know that.”
“Don’t I?” His eyes held mine, dark and knowing. “You and I both know things aren’t always what they seem on the surface.”
There it was. The elephant in the room, wearing orange. Knox’s case. The murder he’d confessed to, pleading guilty without mounting any defense. The truth he’d never told anyone else, not fully.
“Her situation might be completely different from yours.”
“Or close to the same.” He traced a pattern on the table. Irecognized it as another frog. Old habits. “Look, if Faith belongs in a place like this, the system will do its job. But she doesn’t go down because some judge with a God complex demands it. He doesn’t get to be judge, jury, and executioner just because his sociopath son finally pushed the wrong woman too far.”
“Kearns follows through on his threats. I’ve researched him. He’s smart about it. Nothing traceable.”
“So?”
“So, if I stay on as Faith’s lawyer, you might rot in here. No parole. Ever.” I let the weight of that settle. His hand curled into a fist on the table. “I’m not letting you rot in here, Knox. Not for this.”
“And I’m not letting assholes like Kearns rig the system against people like Faith.” His voice was steel. “This is Blake’s sister, for Christ’s sake.”
Blake. Our brother in everything but blood. The one who’d stood by both of us through every disaster.
“Even at your expense?” I asked.
“I’m fine in here.”
“Bullshit.” I leaned closer. “You’re not fine. You’re surviving. There’s a difference.”
“Yeah? Well, surviving in here is still better than Faith dying in here.” He met my gaze directly. “You protect Blake’s sister. No matter the cost.”
“You’re talking about giving up what might be your only chance to see your daughter again. Do you understand that?”
Something flickered across his face. Pain, raw and unguarded, before the mask slammed back into place. “You think I don’t know what I’m giving up? Every single day I wake up in this concrete box, I think about her. Wonder if she remembers what I look like. Wonder if she asks about me or if her mom’s convinced her I’m just the bad guy from her nightmares.”
His voice dropped. “But here’s the thing: If I let you abandon Faith to save my own ass, what kind of man does that make me? What kind of father? The kind who teaches his daughter that youthrow people under the bus when it’s convenient?” He shook his head. “No. If I ever do get to see her again, I want to be able to look her in the eye and know I did the right thing. Even when it cost me everything.”
The conviction in his voice, the selflessness … it was so purely Knox that my throat tightened.
“Faith’s life is on the line right now.” He knocked on the table twice. “We don’t leave family behind. And Blake’s sister? She’s family.”
He stood, and the change in the room was immediate. Two inmates at the table behind us went rigid, tracking his movement. Another across the way shifted in his seat, repositioning. Knox didn’t have to do anything. He justwas. Authority and danger, wrapped in orange scrubs, commanding respect without asking for it.
“Tell Faith something for me,” he said. “Tell her Knox Blackwood says she’s got the best damn lawyer in Chicago.”
“Knox, wait?—”
“Oh, and tell her if she’s actually guilty?” He flashed a sharp grin. “Tell her I respect the hell out of that. Takes guts to take down a predator.”
“That’s not funny.”
