Then the outer door opens.
Diego walks in with a man in a suit.
The relief that hits me is so sharp it almost makes me angry.
"Hey, cuz!" I say, and I hate how rough my voice sounds. It's the first time he's come to see me, and even though it's only been three weeks, it feels like months of carrying this place by myself. His grin breaks open as soon as he sees me, and for a second he looks young again. Like the ten-year-old kid who used to laugh too loud in Aunt Val's living room.
I want to tell him how much I missed him. How much I needed this visit. How every letter he sent was one of the only things keeping me from feeling like I'd already been buried.
Instead I just swallow hard and sit up straighter.
"Hey, man. This is Mr. Dominguez," Diego says.
"You can call me Steve," the man adds, calm and professional, like he belongs anywhere but here.
"Nice to meet you," I say, trying to sound steady.
"He's one of the attorneys at Harvee's new law firm," Diego says.
That lands wrong immediately.
My eyes flick between them. My chest tightens. This wasn't supposed to be about me. The money wasn't supposed to go toward fixing my mess. Diego knows that. He knows I didn't want to drag anyone else into this.
"They're taking on Ma's case," Diego says.
"Okay," I manage, but the word comes out thin.
"Pro bono. And I think we may be able to help you out too," Steve says, nodding toward the bars.
There it is. The part that should feel like hope.
Instead it feels like guilt with a heartbeat.
"How?" I ask.
"Since you confessed, we're going to try to tie your plea into the case. I need to be clear with you — this doesn't make everything disappear. But it could shorten your sentence."
I should feel relieved. I should feel grateful. Maybe I am, buried somewhere under all this fear. But all I can think about is Olivia. Not even the sentence. Not even the walls. Just her face if she ever sees me again. Just her name in my hands like something breakable.
"What do you need from me?" I ask.
"Just your cooperation for now. I'll be back with paperwork. Mostly to appoint me as your attorney."
"Okay," I say. "Anything."
"You look good, man," Diego says, and his voice cracks on the last word.
That's when it really gets me.
Because he's lying a little. Or maybe I am. Nobody looks good in here. Not really. Lack of sleep is worn under my eyes, darkening them beyond recognition. But he says it anyway, because family will say the things that keep each other standing when the truth would knock them over.
"So do you," I tell him.
His eyes go wet immediately, and that's worse than if he'd just cried outright. Diego has always tried so hard to be the one holding everybody else together. Seeing him unravel for me feels wrong. Like I've failed him in a way I can't fix.
"You didn't have to do this," Diego says, swallowing hard.
"DJ, you know I did." I mean everything I'm too ashamed to say out loud. "It's okay." I shake my head, staring at the floor because I can't stand to look at him crying for me. "It's not like I had anything going for me anyway."
