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whether or not Celia could murder Bart was absent. The only people who knew those things were the two women, and one of them would die in a few hours. Celia didn’t know whether to feel sad or relieved.

The alarm on Celia’s phone interrupted her listening. It was 10:15, time for her to go to the prison. Depending on traffic, she’d be there close to 11:00. Hopefully, she’d have a chance to talk with Andrew and Keith and ascertain how Natasha was doing. She closed her laptop and then her office and headed to Delaware.

“Name and identification please.” Because Celia was in a different part of the facilities, the receptionist was different. This woman was younger and much less friendly. Celia gave her name and slid her driver’s license under the window.

“Sign the registry, please. If you have a cell phone or any other devices, you must leave them here. Then step to the side.”

Celia did as the woman asked and then stepped to the side to be patted down by a guard. “Please see the receptionist.” He said.

“Your appointment is at 1:00. You can wait here or go through the detector and wait in the public assigned area until you’re called.”

Celia opted to go through the metal detector, and then a guard escorted her to a plain room with limited seating and a couple of tables. There was a coffee machine, water fountain, and snack machine against one wall and a row of barred windows on the opposite wall. A television hung on the wall, a news station playing with closed captions and no sound.

“Glad to see you,” Andrew sat down and offered her a paper cup with water.

“I was hoping I could talk with you before my visit.” Celia sipped the water. “See how she’s doing?”

“We talked earlier. She’s not too talkative, which is understandable. I told her I’d sent another letter to the governor, and I know a friend of hers has done the same.”

“Do you think it will do any good?”

Andrew sighed. “I’m not sure. I hope so, but I’m honestly not hopeful.” He sat up and looked at Celia. “But you may be able to help. It’s not too late.”

“How can I help?”

“You have contacts. You can go to someone right now and share some of her story. I know enough about her life to know that parts of it would make her a sympathetic victim, especially regarding her father. You probably know more than I do.”

Celia finished the water and crushed the cup. She walked to the wastebasket and dropped it in, trying to think of an answer for the attorney. He was watching her.

“I don’t think I can do that.”

“Why not? She won’t know. She can’t pull the story now. If it has a chance of helping with an intervention –“

“I signed a contract, and I gave Natasha my word. I may not understand why, but she doesn’t want one word of that article published until after her execution. That's her choice to make. Every other choice has been taken away from her. I’m not taking that one.”

Andrew cursed and stood. “Enjoy your visit.” He walked away.

Why did I come here so early? Celia considered hiding until 1:00. Maybe I can take a nap. Chuckling, she leaned her head against the cinderblock wall and closed her eyes.

“Celia, I didn’t think you’d be here yet.” William startled her.

“William, you’re here! Are you visiting Natasha?”

“I just saw her.” He sat and gestured helplessly. “I just can’t believe the state is going through with it.”

“I know. How does she seem?”

He scoffed. “You know her. She’s calm and sarcastic, sitting there with perfect posture.”

“Hair and makeup are done, no doubt.” Celia chuckled.

William laughed and leaned against the wall, closing his eyes as Celia had done earlier.

Should I leak the story? Should I do what her attorney asked even though Natasha was clear? Should I betray her wishes to try to help? Celia wanted to ask William, but she didn’t. She was afraid of what he would say.

“You want some coffee?” William finally asked.

“I’m good. I don’t think I need to be caffeinated.”

William walked to the coffeemaker and made a cup. Then he counted the change and bought something from the machine. He sat back down beside Celia, offering her one of the stale vanilla crème cookies in the small package. She took one to be polite.

“I wonder how long these have been here,” she joked as she took a bite. It wasn’t too bad for a stale cookie.

“I don’t want to know. He sipped from the Styrofoam cup.” I do know you made the right decision about the coffee.” He took another sip and grimaced.

“But you’re still drinking it.”

“You gotta do what you gotta do. Even bad coffee is still coffee.”

Celia laughed and then noticed a door opening. Keith walked through it and caught her gaze. He smiled and nodded before picking up a phone attached to the wall. After he hung up, he went to the door where Celia had come in, met a man Celia had never seen before, and escorted him back out through the opposite door.

“Who is that?” William asked.

“I have no idea.” Celia watched as the man walked with Keith. He looked to be in his thirties, and he was an inch or two taller than the guard. He wore a gray suit and purple shirt with no tie, and his dark hair was slicked back and slightly curled at the neck. He seemed to be very careful about making sure he only looked straight ahead.

“Is he going to visit Natasha? Is he one of her attorneys?”

“He doesn’t exactly look like someone who would work at Andrew’s firm,” Celia said wryly. “Maybe he’s here for someone else.”

“Yeah, he looks more like an ambulance chaser.”

Celia chuckled at that, and William offered her the last cookie. They sat in silence and watched the clock.

Chapter 34

Just before 1:00, a guard escorted Celia to visit Natasha. Instead of the dull, neutral scrubs-like garb she

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