Three years passed with nothing new. My case remained pending. As for the prison, only a few inmates had changed; I barely remembered most of them, for I am not a social person.
However, a few months ago, they brought in an old man—around sixty, tanned, of medium height, with a white hair and beard.
Looking at him, you could see wisdom dripping from his face, especially while he read those books. He was a man of few words.
A voice inside me said: "There is something strange about him."
We never spoke, but he certainly held a secret. But time is long here; it must come to light sooner or later. For now, it didn't matter much.
Throughout that entire time: no visits, no letters, no food, and no money. Nothing had reached me since the day I entered. I was, officially, a nobody.
But today was different.
Just before yard time, the guard arrived. He was an arrogant, crude man.
"You, you have a visitor," he said in his usual condescending tone.
I raised my head. "Me?" I asked like an idiot, for it was so sudden. It was so strange that everyone else was staring at me.
"Yes, you. Come on, hurry up!"
I got up from my bed and headed toward the visitation room. It was the first time. I felt as if I were walking for years until I finally arrived. All along the way, one single question echoed in my head: "Who???"
I entered the room, and the shock hit me... No one was there. The room was empty.
I turned to the guard in a rage, feeling as if my veins were about to burst.
"Are you mocking me?!"
He didn't respond, for at that moment, a girl walked in with a steady gait—someone I had never seen before. She pulled out a chair and sat across from me, while I remained standing in that same state of anger.
Perhaps I was angry because I was longing... longing for a mother's embrace, a father's gaze, the voice of a sister or a brother. I had hoped for a family I had seen only in my dreams. That anger was nothing but the raw pain of loneliness and loss. As for hope, it was a feeling I had lost long ago; I had abandoned it. But in the end, I am only human.
Yes, I hoped... and I was disappointed.
"Who are you?" I asked sharply, my anger still lingering.
She replied with utter coldness: "A lawyer."
"I think you're mistaken... I don't have a lawyer."
"You are the one who is mistaken. From today on, I am."
"What a pity... someone as beautiful as you being this stupid! Ha, my lawyer?!"
I pulled back the chair and sat opposite her, looking at her mockingly.
In truth, she was strikingly beautiful. She had green eyes, but her gaze was sharp and cold—the kind that freezes the soul. As for her tongue, it was like a sword; every word that left her mouth was lethal.
"The woman," was the first word she uttered.
"What woman?" I replied.
"The one you stabbed."
Time stopped for me. Despite my innocence, my heart rate spiked, my face paled, and my breath caught.
"Did she... die?" I asked in a stifled voice.
What suffocated me even more was her coldness: "No. She woke up, and her condition is currently stable."
I exhaled sharply, as if my soul had returned to my body.
She continued: "Your case is back in the spotlight, but don't celebrate yet. The doctor said we must avoid discussing the incident for now, until her mental state stabilizes and she adapts to life again."
"How long?" I asked seriously.
"I don't know, but there is hope for you to get out of here. If you are innocent, you will leave."
She pulled out some papers and added: "Sign these to complete the power of attorney procedures."
I took the pen she handed me. As I signed, I asked out of curiosity: "Hope, huh? Fine... but why?"
She remained silent until I finished signing. She gathered her papers and replied with that same coldness:
"Why am I defending you? Ha... because I want revenge."
I thought to myself: "What revenge is she talking about?"
She answered as if she were reading my thoughts:
"My sister's revenge."