Samuel listened, his expression softening with relief. He was visibly grateful that someone believed in him, that someone saw him as more than just a suspect. “Thank you,” he whispered, his voice shaky. “I can’t believe you came… no one believes me here.”
Despite his gratitude, Samuel’s face darkened with regret and fear. He knew the odds were stacked against him. “I’ve been assigned a lousy district attorney. They don’t care about people like me,” he said bitterly. “I’m homeless. I’m already guilty in their eyes.”