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the table for him to sign. “This is standard procedure, Daniel. If you fail to comply with the conditions set forth, you’ll be charged with violation of parole and returned to prison. Since your sentence was twelve years to life, I don’t think you want that to happen. Any questions?”
    â€œYes,” he said, signing the paper without reading it.
    Carolyn ignored him and picked up her Palm Pilot again, quickly scheduling appointments for the next four months. She then jotted the dates and times down on one of her business cards. “If an emergency comes up and you have to reschedule an appointment, you must call me as soon as possible. Are we clear?”
    â€œYes,” Daniel said. “About the employment…”
    She tried not to look into his eyes. Something in them frightened her. Besides, in supervision cases, it was better to remain impersonal. When preparing pre-sentence reports on rapists, murderers, or other violent offenders, she tried to convince them she was their best friend. She even wore short skirts and high heels, hoping to walk away with admissions that could tack another twenty years on to their sentence. “Have you already lined up a job?”
    â€œI have almost seventy thousand dollars,” he told her, his confidence returning. “I don’t need to work right now.”
    Carolyn blinked several times. Fresh out of prison and the guy had more money in the bank than she did. She felt like filing a violation against him for spite. “Where did you come up with that kind of money?”
    â€œI inherited it,” Daniel said, smiling. “My grandmother left me ten thousand dollars. She passed away right after I was shipped off to the joint. A lawyer put it in a trust fund for me. Now I have seventy grand. Pretty sweet, huh?”
    Carolyn gave him a phony smile, then fell serious again. “I’ll need to know the name of this attorney. I have to verify that you came across these funds legitimately.”
    â€œNo problem,” Daniel said, scratching the side of his face. “I don’t have his phone number with me. He’s listed in the Ventura phone book. His name is Leonard Fletcher.”
    â€œYou have to work,” she said, staring at a spot over his head. “Holding down a job is one of the conditions of your release in the community. Weren’t you listening when I read off the terms and conditions of your parole?”
    â€œI guess not,” Daniel said, shrugging. “I’ve never worked. I was only seventeen when they arrested me. I don’t really have any skills. I got my GED while I was in prison. Other than that, most of what I know I learned on my own. I’m pretty good at physics and math. I can draw, but mostly conceptual stuff for machines and devices. What kind of job do I have to get?”
    â€œAnything,” Carolyn explained, fiddling with the cuff link on her left wrist. Did he really say he was good at physics or was she hearing things? “You can pump gas, wait tables, sweep floors.”
    The reality of his situation was beginning to sink in. Daniel’s voice elevated. “Why do I have to work if I don’t need the money?”
    â€œBecause maintaining employment is one of the conditions of your release,” Carolyn told him. “If they inserted a clause that said you had to sit on top of a pole for the next three years, you’d either sit on a pole or get shipped back to prison. I’m not the person who made these rules. I’m only charged with enforcing them.”
    â€œThen I guess I’ll get a job,” he said. “How long do I have?”
    â€œThirty days,” she said. “You should be gainfully employed by the time I see you next month. I don’t like the idea of your living in a motel, no matter how much money you have. In addition to getting a job, I’ll expect you to find a suitable place to live by your next