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A Jolly Ride To Prison

ANNA’S POV

The door to the visitor’s area opened with a heavy creak, and I stepped through, my eyes immediately locking onto Smith. My heart broke at the sight of him – the man I loved reduced to this state of utter desolation. I hurried over to him, my movements swift and purposeful, driven by a fierce determination to support him in any way I could.

“Smith,” I whispered, my voice choking with emotion as I reached his side. I placed a gentle hand on his arm, trying to offer some comfort through my touch. “I’m here.”

Smith lifted his tear-streaked face to meet my gaze, his eyes filled with a mixture of relief and agony. “Anna,” he managed to say, his voice trembling. “I don’t know what to do. I swear I had nothing to do with Emily’s murder. I don’t even know how this happened. You know me too well, Anna. I can’t hurt a fly.”

I squeezed his arm reassuringly, my expression unwavering. “I believe you, Smith. I know you didn’t do this. We’re going to find a way to prove your innocence.”

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