CHAPTER 13

Abby Kopka was more than a little concerned when she was instructed that her lawyer needed to meet with her. Her lawyer had been appointed by the state and had been more or less worthless during her open and shut trial. But she followed the guard just the same, head down as to not make eye contact with any other inmates. Prison was a dangerous place and though she had managed not to tick anyone off while she had been here, she only wished the same were true for Monica.

The young woman with the Irish accent was the one and only person Abby had befriended in the nine months she had been here and that came as a surprise to her. She had spent the last nine months trying not to speak to anyone, but Monica had been pretty insistent at first and something about the other woman had touched Abby's heart. She could see in Monica's eyes her own fear and uncertainty about being here and when Monica had explained to her about the man she was accused of killing working in the same bank as her late husband, Abby knew she had found a kindred spirit.

As the guard opened the door to the meeting room, Abby found herself face to face with a blond man with the kindest green eyes she had ever seen.

He smiled, clearly seeing her uncertainty, "Hi. I'm Andrew, Monica's lawyer," Seeing Abby's more than confused expression, he continued gently, "She asked me to take your case."

Abby sank into the first available chair out of fear that her legs would not support her much longer, "She did?"

"Yes," Andrew watched her carefully. If he'd had any reason to doubt Monica's words that Abby was innocent, they would have all vanished at that moment; the woman looked completely flabbergasted while at the same time, her eyes held a glint of tentative hope, "She explained to me what the two of you had discussed and it seems that your cases have more than a few similarities."

Abby forced herself to regain control of her wildly racing emotions. Something about this man spoke of possibility. Looking into his eyes, she could almost see her life free of this prison; she could see herself pushing Corey in a swing and playing with him at the park as they rebuilt their lives, "Andrew, it's very kind of you, but there was nothing to prove my innocence the first time around, so I don't see how..."

Sitting down across from her, Andrew's eyes grew serious, "Abby. I know that Monica is innocent. I know that you are too."

"But how can you know that?" Abby's face registered her confusion. No one other than Monica had ever believed her, now here was this stranger telling her he knew she was innocent!

"I just know, Abby," Grabbing a form from his briefcase, the angel pulled out a contract, "Now please, let me represent you."

x

While Andrew continued to work the cases, time passed much more slowly for one little Irish angel. Her first week in prison turned into two months, which felt more like two years.

Her waking hours were spent trying her best to avoid Sheila, who had only spent a week in detention, and the effort exhausted her. The other inmate always found a chance to give the angel at least a shove that would send Monica reeling and though Tess tried her best to stay on top of the situation, she was not always able to do so. Fights in the prison were common, so often times the older angel would be called away and that always gave Sheila the opportunity to attack her young charge.

But what worried Tess the most is that Monica had stopped even trying to defend herself.

The little angel simply accepted the abuse as something she had no control over and it caused Tess to become even more infuriated with the aggressive inmate. But Sheila was keeping her attacks low key for now, as it wasn't enough for her to be sent to detention. But Tess had a feeling the woman was simply biding her time and that something much more violent was on the horizon. But right now, that was almost the least of her worries.

The physical changes in Monica were frightening; the deep, dark circles beneath her eyes, the way she kept her head down most of the time and how she didn't even attempt to speak with any of the other inmates, other than Abby anymore. Even Abby seemed concerned with how Monica was coping with confinement as the only time her new friend came to life at all was when she was trying to encourage her about her own situation. Monica always had a positive word to say to Abby, but as soon as they had to part, the angel seemed to slip inside of herself. It caused Abby and Tess to exchange more than one concerned glance.

X

Darkness had settled at the prison and for some reason Andrew was late and though Monica knew in her heart he was probably performing some of his other duties as an angel of death, he had never been this late before.

She was convinced that Andrew's night time visits were the only thing holding her together anymore. Her gentle heart yearned for so many things that she now felt like she had taken for granted, such as the sunshine and the rain, and the stars and the clouds. She yearned to inhale the sweet fragrance of wild flowers growing in the fields or to stand perfectly still so as not to frighten a wee rabbit.

In prison it was like none of those things even existed.

The minutes ticked away as the little angel sat on the edge of her bed, praying furiously for God to not keep Andrew from her tonight. Surely God knew that she needed to feel Andrew's arms around her when she went to sleep. Surely God knew how he made her feel so safe and protected, if only for a few hours. When Andrew was here it was the only time she felt as if she mattered to anyone in this horrible place.

As she waited and gazed out into the darkness of her cell, it felt as if the walls were closing in on her as her space became smaller and smaller and suddenly Monica felt as if she couldn't breathe. Her heartbeats began to accelerate and she felt as if she could no longer control the trembling of her body. What was wrong with her? Her mind and heart were racing and the blood was pounding in her ears as she rocked back and forth on her bed, certain something was dreadfully wrong with her human form for it to be reacting this strongly.

"Angel!"

Andrew's strong arms were immediately gathering her close to his body, as his own heart beat frantically. He had felt her panic before he had ever left his assignment and all he had wanted to do was to get to her and hold her close. Her shaking fingers wrapped around his shirt, as she struggled to take in air, but now, his sheltering arms were around her and her body began to calm slowly.

"I...I'm sorry. I don't know what came over me." Monica murmured against his chest.

"I think it was what human beings call a panic attack," Andrew replied softly, still trying to soothe her against the trembling that had yet to fully cease, "But baby, what upset you so much?"

She shook her head. She didn't want to upset him or make him feel guilty at all, "It doesn't matter..."

Pulling away, a gentle but firm hand to her cheek forced her gaze, "Yes, it does matter."

Looking into his tender, green eyes, Monica knew she could withhold nothing from him, "For some reason I was afraid the Father wasn't going to let you come to me tonight," She whispered, and despite her gallant efforts, a tear escaped her eye and trickled down her cheek into his fingers.

"Oh, my sweet angel, that will never happen," Pulling her close again, Andrew stroked her hair and rubbed her back. This was getting more difficult with each passing day and he feared for her spirit. Her trial was still two months away, but he had a feeling that day wouldn't hold a candle to the trials she was facing now. Tess had told him about the little angel's apathetic way of handling Sheila's abuse and he had told her about how he had so much trouble getting Monica to go to sleep at night now. Last week, she had tearfully confessed to missing time with him while she was sleeping and he had no idea how to counteract those words. Monica was exhausted and her spirit damaged and all Andrew wanted was to take her far away from this place and hold her in his arms until she was whole again. Once that happened, he was going to marry her and spend the rest of eternity making her smile. Oh, how he missed her smile.

"I think I knew you'd be here," She continued sadly after a moment, "I know you love me, Andrew."

"More than words, Monica; more than life."

"It's just that sometimes, I get so scared. I start to worry that..." She let out a shuddering breath, only her weariness allowing for such honesty, "I start to worry that maybe God has forgotten I'm here."

Her words nearly stopped his heart.

Pulling away once more, Andrew cupped her face in his hands, seeing the raw pain in her dark eyes, along with the loneliness and sadness; such sadness it almost caused his own eyes to well up with tears, "Listen to me," His hands caressed her face, needing to touch her, to reassure her any way he could, "Angel...baby... He hasn't forgotten you. I promise you He hasn't. The Father loves his little Irish angel even more than I do, though I often wonder how that is possible, because I love you so incredibly much. He knows right where all his children are and he knows every worry on their hearts, and He will never forget you, He will never leave you or forsake you. You know those words, baby."

"I know, but this place...it makes me forget them, Andrew."

"That's why I'm here to remind you," Leaning in, he kissed her forehead tenderly, "No one who has ever met you, Monica, will ever forget you. God created you and he is so aware of your hurt right now and so am I."

"Can I tell you how much I want this to be over? But then I say it, and I feel like such a wretched creature for not being able to see the good where the Father placed me. But I've done all I can to help Abby; she has some hope now, thanks to you, but outside of her, there is no one else in here who would listen to me, Andrew. These women are so full of hate or they just no longer care about anyone else and if they aren't one of those two things, then they are in such despair that no one can touch their grief-." Her voice trailed off for a moment and her panicked eyes fixed with his as her lower lip began to tremble, "Am I becoming like some of them, Andrew?"

"Shhh," He whispered, pulling her into his arms once more, "I need for you to listen to me, sweetheart. No, you aren't becoming like any of them. Not only are you innocent but you're an angel; an angel who has been placed in a cage for eight weeks now. You did nothing wrong to be here and you have listened and trusted in our Father with scarcely a complaint. Anyone with a heart as good and as gentle as yours; one as full of love as you are, could never become like these women."

Andrew knew he was running out of answers for her. Like a scared little girl, she had been asking these kinds of questions the past few weeks, as if searching for validation that she still mattered. He prayed every single night that God would give her the strength to endure the next two months when she was so wounded right now, "And for the record, you are the reason Abby has hope now. You are the one who found out about her husband and you are the one who asked me to take her case. All I've done is what you asked me to do, Angel and that is what I will always do...as long as it's within reason of course."

His attempt to make her smile backfired and caused a ragged sob to escape her, "I love you so much and I'm sorry I'm not stronger. I shouldn't be acting this way or asking these questions. I shouldn't be questioning the One who created me and the One who gave you to me. It's wrong!"

"Monica, all those who believe in Him question Him at times, especially when their hearts are hurting like yours is now. Don't be so hard on yourself, Angel. The last several months have been more than difficult for you, but you've come through it all, just like you will come through this. You're so much stronger than you give yourself credit for." Pulling away once more, he looked into her teary eyes, his own taking in how exhausted and peaked she looked and how pale her skin was from the weeks with little sunshine. He needed to find a way to convince her to sleep more than a few hours tonight, "My beautiful, sweet angel, do you trust me?"

His words surprised her as she swallowed past her tears, "You...you know I do!"

"Then trust that what I'm telling you is true and trust that the reason I know all this is because I know you so well. I know what you are capable of, even when you don't trust in your own abilities. And the other thing you can trust in is this..."

Framing her face in his hands, Andrew brought his lips and touched them to hers, hearing the small sigh that escaped her. His tender fingers stroked her soft skin and then moved down to her neck, hoping to relax her and to make her forget her troubled heart for a short time.

Monica responded to his kisses and caresses with a desperation she had never felt before. In Andrew's arms, she knew she mattered. She knew she was loved and far from forgotten and at that moment, her heart felt so full and so grateful for his love that she felt tears escaping her eyes once more as the kisses deepened.

When their lips finally parted some minutes later, the little angel wrapped her arms tightly around Andrew's shoulders and buried her face against the nape of his neck, her tears dampening his collar.

"My Monica, you are so precious to me, baby," He whispered as he hugged her tightly to himself, never wanting to let her go until she was free of this place, and only then if he had to. Untangling himself from her embrace, his loving green eyes met with hers as he tenderly wiped away her tears, "You need to sleep, sweet angel girl."

His words caused her dark eyes to fill once more, "When I'm sleeping I can't talk to you, Andrew and I need you so much right now. Though you make me feel so safe when I'm sleeping..." Her eyes overflowed with sadness, "When I wake up, you're gone!"

The lump formed in his throat out of nowhere at her words. Why did this assignment have to be so hard on her? Why couldn't he have been the one accused of murder?

"Baby, you have to sleep; you're exhausted," He pleaded, his voice thick with emotion. Still seeing her tearful expression, his mind raced, "What if I wake you up an hour before I have to leave? That would give us time to talk and you wouldn't wake up all alone." His hands smoothed over her hair that was pulled back in what had become a token ponytail.

Monica finally relented as she laid down with him, immediately being ushered into his arms. The panic attack from earlier had further drained her and her weary, swollen eyes were already beginning to close, much against her will.

Andrew held her close, and kissed the top of her head repeatedly, while his other hand rubbed her back and her arm, trying to relax her into sleep, "I love you so much, Angel," He whispered to her as her eyes began to close, "You're my whole world, the reason my heart beats, my every dream and my every waking thought. Don't you ever forget how much you matter to me because I would cease to exist without you. Hold on, baby. This will all be over soon."

As he finally heard her even breathing, which he was certain would be interrupted soon by nightmares or the hollering of other inmates, he turned his pained green eyes to the ceiling, "Father, protect her. Protect her heart and her soul as I fear for them and for her. Please, see her through this, because any other option I can't bear to think about."