“Miller, the phone is for you.” Officer Morland worked his way down the cell block towards Wyatt’s cell. Wyatt froze, numbly setting down the worn paperback western Abby had brought him, and just stared at the cop. He hadn’t seen his brothers since the morning five weeks ago when he’d told them to go away.

But who else could it be? It wasn’t like friends would be calling the jail just to chat and catch up on old times.

Maybe his lawyer?

Morland opened up the cell door, letting Wyatt past him before following him up to the phone banks. “You have 10 minutes,” he said, not unkindly, before heading back up front.

With a steadying breath, Wyatt picked up the phone. “He–hello?” he said, hating the waver in his voice.

“Hey Wy,...

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