Chapter Text
At only 19 years old, Magna had been sentenced to 20 years in prison for murder in the first degree. By now, only six months had passed and she was just barely adjusting as well as one could. She struggled to adapt to the strict routine, especially with the thought that freedom might come sooner than expected if all went right with her lawyer. Some of the other women attempted to make small talk with her when she first arrived, notably the older women who had been there a while. She thought perhaps they pitied her for being so young and wanted to take her under their wing. Magna was polite enough, but largely dismissive. It soon became obvious that she wasn’t particularly interested in socializing.
Aside from minor chitchat, the occasional tense interactions, and her growing affinity for treading harmless quips with the largely bad-natured and egoistic guards, she didn’t engage much with anyone outside of her bunkmate, Ida. The woman was so readily chatty that she could sustain conversations with just herself, but Magna hadn’t minded too much. Stimuli was few and far between and she sometimes found Ida’s heavy southern accent soothing in its songlike way. She made an early habit of holding on to these small pleasures, desperately trying to distract herself from the hate she felt for this environment, her situation, and the more time passed, herself.
She lay in bed staring at the underside of the top bunk, trying to recall every detail about her case. At some point today, she would be reviewing any new developments with her lawyer, a cold man whom she only ever addressed with his last name, Richards. Often withdrawn and cold, he had been appointed by her father, if only because he abhorred what having a daughter in prison did for his own self image. She often felt overwhelmed during these meetings. There was so much to understand, and she never felt like her father’s lawyer was truly invested in making her case. She was confident this was nothing more than a business transaction to the both of them. Perhaps too, she thought, they felt she was a lost cause. Perhaps they knew the truth.
A jury had failed to convict the man who had sexually assaulted her little cousin, giving her plenty of motive to have committed the murder. Motive was the absurdly sole determinant used to implicate her guilt, but it was enough to categorize her crime as having been premeditated, earning her the minimum of twenty years. Though her defense had initially committed to proving her innocence, her ever-growing weary lawyer began to consider that the best course of action would be to pursue downgrading the sentence to the second degree.
Although this could shorten the sentence to a minimum of five years, it would also mean pleading guilty. It would mean admitting that everyone’s suspicions, most especially her father’s, were right all along, and that she’d lose the last bit of faith he’d ever show her. The personal reckoning--being the only person who knew without a doubt that she actually did it--was destroying her; she wasn’t sure how she could live if that truth was permanently confirmed to the world.
Further, even if they somehow managed to get her out of there, she didn’t know where she’d go. She’d feel obligated to go to her father, but couldn’t stand the thought of being indebted to a man who couldn’t accept her for her failures, and especially not for her sexuality. It would be going back to a muted life of never feeling like she was enough.
Her mother passed away when she was young, so she spent a lot of time with her aunt Frankie growing up. Soon enough, her cousin would be brought into the world and become the closest thing to a little sister Magna would have. This small family was the only thing that mattered to her. She loved her cousin so deeply, swearing to her aunt that she would always look out for her. With the constant thought that she had failed to do even that, she wasn’t sure she would be able to face her aunt.
She sighed deeply, mulling over other potential runaway destinations and coming up unsatisfied. Suddenly, her focus was broken when Ida entered their room in a hurried manner, wincing quietly to herself and rubbing her shoulder as she looked around. Her hair was fussed, her prison garb in slight disarray. She hadn’t noticed Magna laying there and stopped abruptly when she finally saw her. Magna propped herself up on her elbows, more curious than concerned.
“The hell happened to you?” she asked plainly.
“Ain’t nothin’ to worry ‘bout,” she chuckled nervously. “Jus’... y’know, makin’ friendly talk across the way.”
She waved nervously to a small group of women across from their room. Most of them stared back with a hard look, deliberately nullifying any sort of lightness. One of the women smirked back and nodded her head in acknowledgement. Magna didn’t want to look over at them, knowing eye contact would be enough to get her involved. She swung her legs over the side of the bed and leaned her elbows on her knees, suddenly more concerned than before. She let out a deep, dry sigh.
“Let’s go, inmate,” interrupted a firm voice. A familiar, uniformed figure stopped just outside their door frame and fixed eyes on Magna. “You got legal company”.
Magna stood up to follow him out. She nudged her bunkmate’s arm and pointed a finger to her face.
“This better not be a drug thing,” she warned.
“It ain’t drugs!” she shot back defensively. “It’s--”
“Ah ah ah, “ Magna snapped back disapprovingly. She put up both hands and looked away. “I don’t wanna be involved any more than I already am.”
She continued into the hallway before Ida could respond, barely catching a glimpse of the group across from them before she walked on behind the guard. Though she still made a concerted effort to avoid eye contact, she could feel their steely glare on her back as she walked away.
“Pretty frequent visits with the suits,” said the officer. “Someone must really want you back on the outside.”
After a couple turns, Magna stopped at the door to the briefing room and put her hands on the wall in preparation for the mandatory frisk. She and the other women had a heavy distaste for most of the guards after witnessing--or otherwise experiencing--their disgusting and abusive conduct. CO Porter was the only one Magna found to be decent enough. He was an often deadpan and disengaged individual and she was determined to get him to break character whenever she could.
“You don’t think I actually did it,” she teased. “Murder? Me?”
“I think that you better play nice with these people so you can get out of my hair.” He patted her shoulder to signal she was fine to enter the room.
“Yes sir, Officer Porker, sir,” she snorted out with mock compliance. She walked in ahead of him, sneering.
“It’s Porter,” he corrected, unamused.
“Uh huh,” she teased again, then suddenly stopped in her tracks to turn and ask, “Wait, did you say ‘people’?”
He nearly ran into her at this abrupt stop and shot her a look of mild annoyance. Before he could respond, someone else in the room loudly and impatiently cleared their throat.
Magna and the CO turned their heads at the sound to see two lawyers present at the briefing table. Magna was used to seeing the same stuffy and disgruntled suit there to lecture her, who was already peeking up at her disapprovingly behind his glasses. Richards was nothing if not true to form. This second presence was completely new to her: a dark-haired woman dressed in a sharp suit, sitting patiently with a disciplined smile on her face. Confused, Magna looked to Porter for an answer, but he merely shrugged and left the room, taking his post just behind the protected glass windows where he kept watch of the meetings.
She turned to approach the discussion table, taking her time and narrowing her eyes in intrigue. Both lawyers were sitting next to each other with one empty seat across from them. Her regular lawyer had already begun shuffling through papers, but the young woman next to him stood up as Magna reached the table. She maintained a confident and eager smile that, quite frankly, put Magna off. The now cautious young convict paused to stand just behind the chair, pleasantly bemused by this new development.
“Richards.”
“Sit down, Magna,” he said without looking up at her.
She idly tapped her fingers on the back of the chair and looked from him to this new person. To Magna, she was comically opposite her regular lawyer: young, beautiful, dignified, a quiet positivity radiating from her. Part of her was intrigued solely on the basis that a stranger was making an effort to actually see her.
“I get two of you now?” Magna asked playfully, eyebrows raised. Richards looked up at her now as if bothered, then to his colleague beside him.
“Ah, this is Yumiko,” he announced dully. “She’ll be joining the case.”
“Currently still in my studies,” the woman finally chimed in, offering her hand to shake. “I’m sort of... learning and helping to work your case at the same time. It’s pretty typical field work experience.”
Magna immediately noted her English accent and grew even more puzzled. She shook her hand skeptically, letting out a single, “...Huh.”
This new lawyer seemed eager to present herself as the ideal professional. Her simple, business heels put her above Magna in height and she stood with an elegant confidence, tailored in a navy blue suit and clean white blouse. Her dark hair was pulled away into a low, neat bun that allowed her powerful facial features to stand out. Though Magna knew it was ignorant to think so, the English accent only seemed to add to her air of sophistication. They couldn’t have been too far apart in age, though Magna was certain they wouldn’t be bonding over their clearly different upbringings anytime soon. In the short time it took for the two of them to shake hands and sit down, Magna had already grown annoyed at the thought of another fancy prick coming in to sell her hopeless chances at freedom. She started to lose interest.
“Father of the year is getting that impatient?” she asked with indifference, knowing that there must be some sort of catch. She propped her foot against one of the table legs and rocked her chair back slightly. “He must be paying a lot for this.”
“Actually,” her original lawyer cleared his throat. “Your father will be stepping down.”
“What?” she let out numbly. She dropped the chair legs down, genuinely surprised. “What the hell does that mean?”
He pursed his lips at her predictable hostility and spoke matter-of-factly.
“It means he’ll no longer be supporting the necessary fees for you to obtain legal help.”
The three of them quickly fell to silence as the words sunk in. Magna hardened her gaze on Richards, the heat rising to her chest. He seemed hardly able to contain his satisfaction at the notion of permanently leaving her case closed. She nodded and let out a wry chuckle.
“I’m on my own,” she stated, lamentably familiar with the concept. “Is that why you’re here then? Just to tell me you’re leaving?”
She was leaning in now, hands spread on the table as if ready to physically challenge the nonsense she was hearing. Though this was to be expected, she couldn’t help but feel incredulous at the never-ending spite from her father.
“Not at all,” Yumiko came in quickly, hoping to diffuse the younger woman’s visibly augmenting distress. Magna looked over impatiently as the woman opposite her maintained her upbeat tone. “Again, I’m hopping in because we’re still invested. We’ll just be working pro bono.”
“For as long as that’s sustainable,” Richards cut in. Magna looked back to him, almost seething.
“Is that a warning?” She was really getting uncomfortable now, her anger shifting into panic. If sustainability was the demand, there was no way she could meet it. She didn’t have anyone else on the outside who would be willing to help. Her nervous contemplations from earlier became suddenly more real, followed by the creeping feeling of abandonment.
Yumiko, still keeping stride with Magna’s developing mood and willingly overstepping the enmity of her colleague, offered words that she hoped would establish balance.
“Magna, I want to assure you that there’s nothing to worry about,” she urged. “People donate to pro bono causes all the time, especially for wrongful convictions.”
Magna paused at her words, letting this new development form an image in her mind and unwittingly giving in to the small comfort it offered. Hearing Yumiko speak in such a straightforward manner about her innocence was like hearing it for a fact.
“People want to see justice carried out,” Yumiko continued. “It gives them hope. It’s why I’m here.”
Her tone was softer now and she again smiled patiently at Magna. The distressed young woman drew back slowly and stared back at her, not sure how much she could trust this proposition. She knew, however, that she was in no position to question the efficacy of work she had no experience in. She looked down at the table for a second in consideration and then back up to Yumiko.
“What makes you so invested in my case?” she asked, trying hard not to let her residual anger make her sound more hostile than she meant. “We’ve never met before.”
“I read through the files and was immediately taken by the persistent lack of evidence. Nothing definitively proves your guilt,” she replied simply.
Magna could detect her excitement and waited for more explanation, desperately wanting to be convinced. Yumiko met her silence with a modest shrug and continued. “It felt like a cinch when I read it. I just knew I had to jump on and see this through.”
Magna looked over to Richards, who had now completely withdrawn his participation to read over some pages. She crossed her arms and bit back the urge to say something to provoke him back into the conversation. She wasn’t interested in his perspective anyway. Deciding to ignore him, she turned back to Yumiko with renewed intrigue, blatantly looking her up and down.
“Trying to start your career with a clean win?” she said, passing playful judgment at the young lawyer’s hunger.
“I suppose,” Yumiko admitted unashamedly. “Though you won’t be holding that one over me once you’re walking free.”
Magna was surprised by how much she was enjoying Yumiko’s self-satisfaction. They had managed to side-step the dreaded niceties and play directly into a short, but pleasant back and forth. Still, as she was never one to allow too much faith in anyone, she attempted to slow the growing optimism.
“I can’t promise you’ll find what you’re looking for,” she offered, allowing herself to sound more vulnerable about her chances at freedom than she usually preferred to admit.
“Well, then we’ll dissect it down to its core,” Yumiko immediately countered. “Minute by minute, day by day--”
“And you’re committed to that?” she laughed, astounded by her persistence. Yumiko gave a deep nod of approval as she too laughed at her own eager attitude.
“It’s ride or die for me, Magna,” she stated with finality, her steady gaze intimidating and inviting all at once.
Magna smiled involuntarily at this, feeling strangely moved. Never had she encountered someone so bold and aggressive in their stance who she didn’t also instinctively want to fight against. For the first time since the whole dreadful matter began, she was looking forward to seeing how things developed. She comfortably buckled, unaware that she had not been able to take her eyes off of Yumiko as she spoke.
“Okay,” she decided. “Ride or die it is.”