Hope and BetrayalChapter 8
I’d been up all-night dreaming about seeing her, my woman. More than a year since I’d been arrested and tried and sentenced, and then sent up here to hell. I had talked to her once in county and gotten letters, but apart from those, nada. Like I said, she did write and that fairly often. I did know what was going on back home, and I had gotten a picture of my little girl. She’d sent it as kind of an early Christmas present. I so loved that baby. Daddies always adored their baby girls; it was...