Found Obsession

Chapter 17: Samuel Solace

Rose felt that surge of adrenaline again, the fresh instinct that told her she was onto something big. "Come on, Emma," she said, quickly gathering her notes and the evidence she had collected. Her mind raced as she stuffed everything into her purse, she placed cash in Emma's hands.

"Where are you going?" Emma asked, watching Rose with growing concern.

"I have to see this man!" Rose said, already scanning her phone for the lawyer's number from Samuel Solace's case. Her hands shook slightly, the urgency consuming her.

"Shouldn't you wait until your boss's boss is back?" Emma asked, her voice tinged with uncertainty.

Rose shook her head, her eyes focused and determined. "If I'm right, Emma, this man has been in jail for four years-for something he didn't do. If I were in his place, I'd want someone to-"

"To feel the urgency you feel?" Emma finished, her gaze softening as she realized the weight of Rose's determination.

Emma's expression shifted to nervousness. "Just... be careful, Rose," she added, but Rose was already running out towards the elevator, her phone pressed to her ear.

Rose paused briefly, biting her lip as doubt flickered across her face. "I'll be fine. I promise," she called back, her voice resolute as she dialed the lawyer's number.

As the line connected, Rose glanced at her watch. It was 6 a.m.

"Hello?" A groggy voice answered.

"Mr. Wixx?" Rose asked, her heart racing.

"Yes?" came the reply.

"My name is Roselyn Hansley, Detective. I need to speak with you about Samuel Solace."

Silence hung on the other end of the line as Rose hailed a taxi, her mind spinning with possibilities.

----

The heavy bars of the jail clanged open, and Samuel Solace, a man who had lost everything, stepped forward. His eyes told a story of deep despair-the kind that comes from not only losing his wife but his faith in justice. The years had worn him down, and after being told by everyone that he was guilty, he had started to believe it himself.

"Hurry up, Solace," one of the guards barked. "You've got a lovely visitor impatiently waiting to see you."

Samuel frowned in confusion. Lovely? Visitor?

He didn't have any visitors, at least none in years. The guard pushed him forward, and soon enough, Samuel entered the cold, sterile room reserved for meetings between prisoners and visitors. The familiar smell of disinfectant and metal filled the air.

As he stepped inside, his eyes fell on two figures sitting at the table. His old lawyer, looking slightly more worn but still composed, sat on one side. Beside him was a woman-biting her lip nervously, her hands clasped tightly together on the table.

Samuel's eyes narrowed. She's probably scared of me, he thought bitterly. He had seen that look before. But why was she here? What could she possibly want from a man everyone believed to be a monster?

However, when her blue ocean eyes met his, and she smiled-a genuine, soft smile-Samuel felt his world tremble. It was a look he hadn't seen in years. Not pity, not fear, but something else. For a brief moment, it felt like the walls of the prison weren't as suffocating.

"Ten minutes!" the guard barked from the door, his voice cutting through the moment like a blade.

Samuel's gaze hardened again. "Go home, kid," he said immediately, his voice rough and dismissive. "Reporter?" He turned towards his old lawyer, already preparing himself for the usual interrogation, the prying questions.