To know that these guys—and I mean dudes convicted of worse crimes than me—had parents, wives, kids, and friends out there who loved them and cared for them after everything they’d done and I had no one. Not a single fucking person. And that sucked. A lot. So, one day, out of desperation, I took up writing letters to the one person I could think of who I’d never wronged. The only person who I’d truly saved. I wrote letters to a girl named Rain. A girl with the prettiest, softest brown hair I’d ever seen.
