My stepmother sl:ammed the door in my face after telling me, “Your father was bu:ried without you.” I didn’t scream, I didn’t beg; I walked straight to the cemetery with my prison clothes still in my backpack. But there I discovered there was no grave… only a secret letter that could destroy it.

So I took a deep breath, put the USB drive in my sock, stuffed the most important folders into my bag, and slept right on the floor of the storage unit.

The next morning, I went to a free legal clinic for ex-prisoners. That’s where I met Nora, a lawyer who didn’t smile much but really knew her stuff. When she started reading the files, her whole face changed. After two hours, she took off her glasses and looked at me.

“Finnley, this isn’t just an appeal,” Nora said. “This is a massive setup. We are talking about fraud, identity theft, forgery, and hiding a body. If we do this right, we can clear your name, but they are going to fight dirty.”

“They already ruined my life once,” I told her. “I’m not running away this time.”

Nora nodded and shut the folder.

“Alright. Let’s get to work.”