Fifty-Two
Carol knocked on Clarence's door. "Clarence, you in there? You ready for some supper soon?" Fake happy voice.
She slowly pushed the door open.
Fully clothed, Clarence curled on his bed, facing the wall.
"I know you're not asleep, Clarence." She closed the door. "We have to talk." She tiptoed to the bed.
Barely discernible breathing. Holding his breath?
"Please let me help you."
His shoulders twitched.
"If we play it your way, I have no recourse but to call the home office. And they won't deal with you like I'd like to." She gathered steam. "I'd like to treat you with respect—to honor you—to honor what you have done and given in your life. But the home office? They'll send you to a psych ward."
She edged around the end of his bed. "You're a lawyer and you've been in priso
