James and I had breakfast at the hotel. We sat in silence. Eddy had sent me a picture an hour earlier; he was eating a burger at a roadside diner. I knew he was trying to reassure me.
"Your flight is this afternoon." James said. "You can still go back to your room and rest."
"James, there's somewhere I need to go before we leave."
"Where?"
"The state penitentiary."
James put down his fork and was silent for a moment. "Alright. I'll call Wilson now and see if he can arrange something."
*****
James and I sat in a prison visiting room, roughly ten square meters. I tried to avoid moving, only letting my eyes scan the room. The grayish-white walls and gray plastic chairs felt as oppressive as the gray sky outside.
I hadn't expected Wilson to not only contact the prison so quickly but
