"Khari, you're not a murderer, son," his father reassured him over the phone. "I believe you."
He paced the small office anxiously, left hands rubbing his neck while his right eyed the timer on the desk beside him.
The line slowly began to diminish outside of the room when the boys realized that Khari wanted to spend all ten of his minutes on the phone.
The boy held back his tears, whispering into the phone, "Personne ne me croit. Tout le monde pense que je l'ai fait."
His dad told him, "Do not worry about what others think of you; that is none of your business. You must only focus on yourself and your family."
The counselor sat behind her desk while filling out her weekly report on Khari's behavior. He stayed to himself; he spoke to only himself. When it was time to go to the library, he'd check out stacks of books at a time and read them all when he returned to his cell. No one shunned him; however, he stayed away from everyone. He was afraid of their rejection and fear.
"Je t'aime, papa."
[i told yall that it would be short, lol. to make y'all feel better, this chapter was only meant to prove one thing. i'll let y'all decide what that is. the next chapter will be posted sometime today!]