Henry feels cold inside and his stomach is tied in knots. How could he be so naive to think he was ready? He can't go to prison, not this way. If Abigail's honour is the price of his redemption, he does not want it. He is ready to go to hell and back, twice, but he won't drag her with him. Why couldn't they just lock him up? Abigail should have been left out of this… this tragicomedy.

Henry should have left Hope Valley when he had the chance, without looking back. He should have tried to escape… this. Of course, he can't imagine himself on the run. Spending the night in a forest, hungry and cold, fighting off bears… Living in the wilderness, hunting, picking berries… He wouldn't have lasted long, not with his chest wound and his bad knee. Not with Bill Avery hot on his heels. It would have been the world's worst escape attempt, probably, and in the end Henry would have been locked up once and forever, key thrown away. Easy as that.

Except that, naturally, Abigail would have taken full responsibility for his escape and it would have been as if Henry had jumped out of the frying pan into the fire. He has never thought he would live the day when he says Bill was right - but apparently, Bill was right when he said Abigail's biggest fault was her kindness.

She is still defending him, even when she is a witness for prosecution. Even when Georgia Pardell is accusing her of corruption and bribery. How adamantly Abigail is fighting for her community! And she still considers Henry part of that community. A truly amazing woman. But Henry does not deserve her kindness since the goodness she sees in him is nothing more but the reflection of her own good heart.

Maybe Henry should have died on that day. This thought has found its way back to his mind, slowly creeping into his head during the long, sleepless nights at the detention center. Everything was easier at Hope Valley where he could go wherever Bill took him, where he could be tired at the end of a day spent with working on his community service. At the detention center there is simply - nothing. He can't go anywhere, his cell is not even large enough for pacing up and down; there is no work to do, there is nothing but waiting and staring. At his hands. At the wall. On a brighter day his eyes can follow the journey of a narrow ray of sunshine on the wall, but as it is still February, the sky is mostly grey and cloudy. No sunshine for him.

He can sit. Stand. Stare. Wait. Count the seconds. The minutes. The days. Think. Remember. Pray. Lie down.

He can't sleep. He can't figure out how to make things right. He can't stop thinking. He can't breathe.

He is alive but what for.

It seems almost like a dream now, that fateful day when Bill saw Henry fall to the ground, bleeding profoundly. What more, endless days and lots of prayers later, he saw the very man fall asleep. Bill Avery has seen many people die (or knock at death's door) but he has rarely kept vigil watching over grown-up men drifting off to sleep.

Sleeping men are more peaceful than dying men.
'When you arrested Ray Wyatt, he tried to shoot you, correct?'

'That's correct.'

'But Henry Gowen stopped him, isn't that right?'

'Yes, he did.'

'And it almost cost him his life.'

'Yes.'

Lawyers are so predictable. Bill knew what to expect from them: the defense questioning him about Henry's bravery, the prosecution questioning him about his investigation. He also suspected that if he casted the bait with good timing, they would eagerly take it, so right before the trial he told both of them about Henry's little field trip right. They loved it - but who doesn't love a good story, even if it's true? Especially if it's true. A criminal, trying to slip away, using the searching party for a lost girl as an excuse - or actually trying to help? Then ending his day with saving the town's mayor from getting frostbite. It is a wonder a story so good did not make it to the papers.

Except that things got a bit out of hand. Bill surely did not expect Georgia Pardell to come and try to frame Abigail for selling her testimony to Henry. His job is to see the bad in people and he likes to see lawyers as vultures ready to pounce, but he did not believe Abigail would have to pay the price. Well, Abigail did an amazing job, defending herself - and defending Henry, as a matter of fact. With her little speech directed at the judge, she would have made an excellent witness for defense. Sadly, that task rests on Bill's shoulders, and he wonders when will he see the end of this very long day. He owes some apologies to Abigail - something common with Henry, after all. Alas, no matter when they see the end of the day, it won't end so badly for him as it will end for Henry, Bill is sure of that.

'What would you say about Mr Gowen's attitude towards community service?'

Bill frowns. He has not thought about it before but now, as he is quickly trying to recall his memories upon the topic, he can't pinpoint anything evil or harmful done or said by Henry during that time in Hope Valley. 'He was surprisingly… humble.'

Henry is certainly out of shape as Bill has expected at least an incredulous snort from him. Maybe a look of surprise or disbelief, but no, Henry's eyes are stubbornly fixed on his hands. Somehow he looks... smaller than during Bill's visit at the jail. See, Henry is no fool, even he knows what to expect from this trial.

'Peaceful, I'd dare to say.' Careful there, Bill warns himself, because he is way past giving facts, he is giving an opinion here. 'He worked hard on his community service.'

Bill shrugs. Actually, he has found Henry the criminal behind bars less problematic and annoying than Henry the mayor and free man, and that is something.

Georgia Pardell asks him about AJ Foster. Where did he found her, what did she tell him etc. Once again Bill reminds himself of his decision about sticking to the facts.

'I found AJ Foster in Bishop Falls.' The encounter and their journey to Hope Valley was memorable, so to speak, but he won't bother the court with such insignificant details. 'She told me that when she was auditing the bank's books, she found a paper trail that showed that Henry Gowen was funneling town funds into his own personal bank account, and that Ray Wyatt had threatened her and bribed her to create a new set of phony books.'
'Are these the real set of books that she provided you?' Georgia shows him the books - the real ones, holding the evidence of Henry's guilt.

Bill nods. 'Yes, that's them.'

'No further questions.'

The time of judgement has come.

'The defendant will rise.'

Henry stands up, feeling a lump in his throat. He is ready, he reminds himself, he is ready for anything that comes. He does not have great expectations, this is not a day for miracles.

'I find you, Henry Gowen guilty of the misappropriation of public funds.' Henry knows he is guilty, everyone knows he is, so no news there. 'I'm sentencing you to ten years, which is the maximum allowed by statute.' He knew it, he knew his chances, he expected this sentence, but it is still a hard blow to take. 'However, as is my prerogative, I'm crediting you with time served and granting you immediate parole. Now, should you violate the terms of this parole, you will be brought back to serve the remainder of your sentence. You have one last chance, Mr. Gowen. Don't make a fool of me.'

Henry can't believe his ears.

It always returns to the same point: his lack of belief. He didn't believe he would ever see the sun again, not as a free man. But then again he was corrected in his incredulity, a gentle reminder that his steps are watched over, even when he comes to himself within a dark wood where the straight way is lost. If he doesn't shield his eyes from His guiding light, he will always find the way home.
'I will not, Your Honor.' His lips are moving, he is saying these words, he is making a promise that he must keep. A promise to the judge and to Abigail, of course. To Bill, even. To Hope Valley? Let's not go so far.
'We're done here.' The judge bangs his gavel. It is over.

It was a day of miracles after all, and now it is over. Henry looks across the courtroom, locking eyes with Abigail for a brief moment. She nods, a small smile tugging at her lips. Henry is not ready to smile, not yet. He is experiencing a strange sense of relief, at the same time acknowledging the hard task that lies ahead of him. Maybe he will never be redeemed but at least he has got another chance to try and, after making the worst possible decisions, show the best of him.

He is going home.

After weeks of suffocation, for the first time Henry feels he is ready to take a deep breath.