Swivelling Emotions.

Eric was unable to sit still in his chair, and no, it wasn’t because he had locomotive problems. He was worried, as anyone would be if they had a meeting to talk to their lawyer about the chances of their freedom. Things weren’t looking good for him. He stared at the pristine white walls of the small conference room.

Beads of sweat formed on his forehead, although the room was ventilated. He loosened his tie and knotted it again. His nerves were all over his face, he couldn’t even think. He was beginning to run out of options. There was a rapt knock on the door, and he jumped to his feet almost immediately. He crossed the length of the room and extended a hand. "Good day, Mr. Pratt."

"Good day, Mr. Allen."

Eric showed him a seat.

Mr. Pratt was the best crooked lawyer that was willing to defend him. Henry had gotten on the side of the public; no lawyer wanted to wade into that kind of murky water, but with the right amount of money, any man could be bought.

"Any good news?" Eric delved