C9 Joana

The living room smelled even worse than the director's room.

The mold on the lower floors was worse. Much worse. The place was closed, there were windows all over a wall, but somehow, they didn't do anything. It was like a painting on a wall, it didn't change anything.

The wind didn't come in, even if I saw some trees far away that shook their leaves. The sun was already high, burning everything in its path, and it was not even past ten o'clock in the morning. The day would be very long and tiring.

However, I would probably go back to the city center in a comfortable car with a sunroof, as well as air conditioning. I wouldn't have half the problems of those inmates in having to settle for lying on the cold floor or in the shadows to escape the powerful sun.

The reality was hard to accept, but I knew that many of those men deserved to be there. Some even deserved a capital penalty, but the Brazilian laws were too lenient, and the minimum time inside that place was already some relief for those who remained on the right side of life.

I was still looking at the window at the top of the ceiling, ignoring the presence of the two guards in front of the iron door, when it was opened and hesitant steps sounded. I kept my back, waiting.

The man went around the tables to be able to reach me, considering that I had purposely chosen a place further away from the door, and closer to the window. I was roasting inside my cute and lilac set.

So I'd rather risk my life in front of a silent and strange detace, than stay near the door, lose privacy and still feel my body roasting from the inside out. However, the heat that hit me was not necessarily coming from the sun, when the detacker entered my field of vision.

His hair was short "the kind that suggested that at some point he had been bald", his eyes were that deep and shiny blue, despite the dark circles below. The face was well designed, strong with a slightly square jaw, and a thinner chin.

The lips were a spectacle apart, full, but small. And he had a beard shadow for shading that firmness in his facial muscles. His body practically covered my vision of the sun, until he sat down and I could no longer notice the size of those raised legs.

Even sitting, he remained very big, and his broad shoulders and muscular arms in a thin white tank top, did not give me a very great feeling that the guards at the door could do anything to help me, in case he backfired.

"Hello, Pablo," I hummed, opening a wide smile. I stretched out my hand, causing my bracelets to jingest when I hit my watch. Everything was silver, because I didn't want to enter with gold inside the jail, although I knew that my presence said a lot about me not being just any lawyer. "My name is Joana Jones. And I am your new representative, considering the unfortunate incident with your previous lawyer.”

The man had died.

I heard the news earlier that week, when my older sister, Jessy, had said that her boyfriend "he swore not to be a boyfriend" was desperate for her brother's freedom.

I was already moving my chopsticks before that, trying to take the case for myself, so when everything happened, I knew it was time to deal more actively with that process.

It was still an unknown in my head. Someone was trying to harm that man.

Somehow, Hazz and his family were in danger, just like the danger my sisters and I were running, so it became something personal and a deep interest in my interior.

But a look in the direction of that man, those clear eyes and that seemed to hide an immense secret, and I found myself tempted to find out beyond just the answer to that mysterious case. I was tempted to find out about him.

"Hello, Joana," said Pablo, holding my hand in yours. His touch left me with a strange feeling in my stomach, and I didn't even notice that I was sweating, until he frowned and wiped his hand on his own shirt. "I didn't imagine that the state would offer me a lawyer so quickly.”

"Oh, no, dear, I'm not here for the public defender's office," I informed, crossing my hands on the table to disguise the nervousness. Fuck. I was a renowned lawyer, and I was sweating like a little pig on the grill, it was not possible that only the hoarse voice and the handsome man in front of me were responsible for that. I tried to convince myself that it was the strong sun, and the oppressive climate of the prison. "I'm a private lawyer.”

"And who is paying for you? "He asked, frowning his face even more. So he turned in the direction of the guards. "I don't have enough money to pay.”

And I noticed the tone of fear in the firm words, even if his expression was just a false indulgence. I knew that the work in prison reduced the years of sentence. Maybe he feared that paying for a private lawyer would mean a few more good years locked in those cells.

"Your brother," I replied in a low tone. "Harry paid me to defend you.”

"A liar," he said, without even changing his expression.

I smiled a little.

"All right. He's not really paying, but I'm here for his request.”

Pablo frowned even more. Of course, he did not consider that the brother had any money for a private lawyer, or that he would have no interest in helping to free the troubled brother.

He waited for a moment, and I noticed that I would like to hear something more about that hiring, but when I didn't say anything, he just sighed. Then he leaned slightly forward.

"What exactly do you want from me?”

"I want your freedom.”

"No, lawyer. You didn't understand my question," he said, crossing his arms on the table. I heard, more than I felt, when the guards were tense behind my back. Hazz's arms made the table pop softly, as if heavy enough to crush, and I knew the guards would not act in time. "I want to know what you think you can gain by defending me, when everyone else has gone through some complicated situation, even losing their own life. What do you think you can win with me? I don't have anything.”

"Everyone has something to offer," I replied in a casual tone, moving away a lock of hair that had come loose from the elastic. So I leaned over the table, also crossing my arms. My eyes didn't dare to deviate from Pablo's. "I just want your case, Pablo. I want to be the one who solved it.”

“ Why? "He asked.

"Because you're innocent.”