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to conclusions. What do you suggest?”
    “A conjugal visit…”
    “A conjugal visit?” The woman’s brow rose as her jaw dropped open. “I thought you’d arrange for us to meet in your office next week, something like that! He’s never going to do that and besides, we’re not married and Holman doesn’t even allow that. Matter of fact, there is only one prison in the entire state of Alabama that makes provisions but it would never—”
    “Let me handle the details, please.” He raised his hand. “There are a lot of things that go on in the prison system that the public is not aware of, or is privy to, including yourself. I am, however. Now, let me make this clear.” He pointed at her. “I am not arranging it so that you and Aaron engage in sexual activity. Under the circumstances, we both know that is highly unlikely, but I do need for you two to be in the same area for an extended period of time, uninterrupted and left with nothing but conversation. Again, Aaron needs to feel safe. That is what drives him as it pertains to things such as this. And, he can only feel safe with you, if he is able to look you in the eye and spend, not just an hour or two with you, but two to three days to help with forgiveness and healing. There are too many layers, and that takes time.”
    She dabbed at the corner of her eyes and held up a finger as if requesting him to hold that thought. Mia proceeded to pull out a ribbon wrapped wad of papers. Gently untying the shiny, royal blue string, she let the series of neatly tri-folded sheets spill onto her lap.
    “What are those?”
    “They are most of the poems I’d handwritten to him, returned to me. I wrapped them up in a blue ribbon in hopes of giving them back to him some day.” She plucked another folded piece of paper from her purse, this one white, and reached across the desk to hand it to him.
    He looked at her for a moment or two, then unfolded it, and read the simple words…
I don’t know what to call you anymore, so I won’t write a name at all.
I loved you more than any other woman in my lifetime… I planned to give you everything you could have wanted and needed. I don’t know what’s true and what’s a lie, but now none of that even matters. How could you do this to me? What type of person does this to someone they say they love? I know who you are and what you are. You made a fool of me! Stop sending me letters and gifts.
Don’t ever contact me again.
-Aaron
    “Mia, when did you receive this?”
    “Not long ago at all. I got it a bit later though because it arrived at my P.O. Box. It was the only address he had for me. I understand that you’d been sending the bulk of his correspondences previously, up until that point.”
    Dr. Owens bowed his head in agreement.
    “I had kept trying to send him letters to explain, to ask to talk on the phone at least, but the letters kept coming back and then he sent this one.”
    …He was having a nervous breakdown and even in the midst of it, he was reaching out to her. A part of him wanted her to make this right, though he knew that was theoretically impossible.
    He nodded in understanding from her response and sighed, yet, kept the revelation to himself.
    “Well, we have a lot of work ahead of us, and I’m going to need you to do your part…”
    “I’m going to do whatever you say, Dr. Owens. I got myself into this, and now, I just want to get him out of it…”

Chapter Three
    “Y OU MUST BE out of your goddamn mind!” Aaron screamed.
    He looked at the man, certain the nerdy motherfucker would sprout two more damn heads. Dr. Owens was quickly becoming an ugly alien, public enemy number two, in his mind. Not only had the man called him back into his office in the wee hours of the morning when he’d finally fallen asleep after yet another emotionally draining day, but he’d confirmed his greatest fears…
    Mia was Melissa.
    To make matters worse, hints of her perfume lingered in the man’s office,