I'm very happy for your positive feedback and thank all of you for reading, especially the precious lovely people who reviewed. I appreciated it very much. It really means a lot to me. Here is the second part. Please, keep on being nice. Remember that English is not my native tongue. Also, it was very difficult to write about trial or courts or whatever, while I don't even know Italian justice.

Enjoy!

Scar

Emergency exit

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Part 2

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Oh, Lord, help me walk
Another mile, just one more mile;
I'm tired of walkin' all alone.

And Lord, help me to smile
Another smile, just one more smile;
Don't think I can do things on my own.

I never thought I needed help before;
Thought that I could get by - by myself.
But now I know I just can't take it any more.
And with a humble heart, on bended knee,
I'm beggin' You please for help

[Help me – Johnny Cash]

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.There are two things in the world which make James McGinn more interesting than his appearance: a deep love for money and a serious addiction to desperate cases.

You can offer him them both, especially the latter, since you are not swimming in gold anymore. From the sale of the Chez Chez you held very little money for yourself, after dividing out most of it among your children, your defense and a considerable cheque mysteriously credited to the deli's account. You own a flat in Dublin, though, and you appointed James to sell it, so you can withdraw what you need for his exorbitant fees.

But he is not yet convinced.

"It's not easy preparing for an appeal without further evidence. You confessed to killing your father and you have been saved from a life sentence and four murder charges thanks to me and a lot of luck. I don't think it's convenient digging up bones. "

"What have I got to lose?"

"Absolutely nothing. At most the Crown Court would confirm the sentence. "

You stare back his skeptical gaze. "I want to go out, James." you say firmly.

He rubs at his forehead thoughtfully, as if he had to do with someone who is asking for a miracle. That's exactly what you need.

"Listen, Brendan" he begins, suddenly lowering his voice and moving closer to your ear. "The only thing we have to ask for is another psychiatric evaluation. We can turn the mental disorder into infirmity and then-"

"I'm not mental."

"Your speech doesn't sound really persuasive to me" he mocks "I'm pretty sure the jurors would agree with me... but you'd end up in a psychiatric hospital and not yet as a free man anyway. "

"I said I want go out, indeed. I could say I acted in self-defence" you suggest.

"After two years?" he replays doubtfully. "We need evidence, Brendan. Testimonies ".

You sigh heavily. You already know that, of course, but you wonder why you're going to share your shit again while you swore 'Never again'.

"My father..." you say, your heart starts beating faster. You take a deep breath and spit in one shot. "My father abused me."

He frowns as if he were struggling to listen to you carefully or to make sure that you aren't taking the piss out of him.

"He abused me" you repeat more slowly, "he sexually abused me since the age of eight and he kept doing it until puberty. Then, he went on with psychological abuse until the day of his death."

You notice a slight shaking in his lips. But you know, because of his work, he is definitely accustomed to hear the strangest things.

"Evidence?"

"What do you mean?"

"Medical reports ... people who knew... "

You shake your head slowly. "It was a secret between the two of us. The only people who knew are dead by now. "

"It's only your word then?"

You nod grimly. "The night he died, he tried to do it again ... I have no idea what he was going to do, actually, because I was terrified. I was like a child again. He hit me, I fell down, thus... I shot him. "

"Why on earth didn't you say this two years ago?"

You realize you are shaking and your forehead is sweaty. Maybe that's why James has no doubt about your sincerity. In your mind you feel compelled to thank him, but you don't do it. He gives you a tissue and you wipe your forehead, and your eyes.

A second later you smile bitterly.

"It's not exactly something cute to say around, is it?"

"I think... that's a horrible thing anyway".

You raise your eyebrows.

"What?" he says slightly offended. "Even lawyers have their integrity, Brendan. Anyway... what made you change your mind?"

You close your eyes for a few moments and sigh deeply. "A good reason".

Then you look up at him straight in his eyes.

You can almost see, through them, his brain working like a well-oiled mechanism.

Too bad that such a portentous brain lies in a so cheap box.

"First of all you have to submit to psychiatric evaluation again and-" he stops and starts rubbing his chin with small, gentle circular motions. "If only you hadn't shoot him in the back..." he stops to think again, "If only there was a witness ... only one would be more than enough."

A witness exists, actually, but you're not going to drag your little sister in Court. She is so emotive that she would ruin everything.

"Just-" he continues to say, as if he was in another world, his own.

You tilt your head back and stare at the ceiling as if you wanted to reflect, but you have too many things to hide to find something good that is not a lie.

"One moment" you light up all of a sudden. "There's someone who knows. He still lives in Hollyoaks, I guess. "

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You had forgotten the sweet feeling of waiting in the unforgiving running of the days.

Seventeen years are practically like a life sentence because you're almost sure you won't get out of here alive before the end. You have a slight glimmer of hope in your heart and that sweetness on your tongue that now fills the time gap between a tick and tock.

First you need to see James again and keep believing in his tenacity. Otherwise, your time will become again so infinite and meaningless that you might find yourself on the roof of the prison before you realize it.

As the saying goes : "It always seems impossible until it is done."

And you believe it. You need to.

For you. For Steven.

Also, what have you got to lose besides what you've already lost?

As you enter the private chat room, you see James sit down with a worried glance at his files and, in the meantime, you feel your glimmer of hope solidify, start cracking and, in the end, shrink in microscopic dust, while that sweet feeling turns in bitterness on your tongue.

You plop down on the chair in front of him, head down, waiting for the blow.

"Good news and bad news Brendan." he says all of a sudden.

'Which ones do you want to hear first?' you add in your mind.

But he doesn't say it and you remain silent waiting for the noose to tighten up around your neck with a single tug.

"The good news are you don't have to sell the flat in Dublin"

You raise your head and look up at him frowning.

"Yeah!" he confirms. "The person you told me to look for has a debt with you and gave me all the money with which you paid him two years ago. He didn't touch a penny. Thirty-five grands, in cash."

He whistles in appreciation. "It's almost more convenient being an enemy of yours."

He laughs alone to his stupid joke, because he knows he costed to you a lot more than Thirty-five thousand pounds. "Sorry," he says quickly.

"Also, Kevin Foster will come spontaneously to testify in your favor, revealing everything he knows. He even has all the numbers to soften the jury. "

In the following silence, you can hear the almost solid echo of a 'but'.

"I think his testimony is enough to go to the Crown Court," he adds; yet, that unsaid 'but' creeps inside of you as you were waiting for bad news.

In fact, it is coming.

"but I don't think it's enough to cancel the first verdict. The jury can believe him or not. Honestly? I wouldn't bet one penny."

"What have I got to lose?"

This question has become like a mantra by now.

"We're going to appeal the verdict," he concludes, giving a slight pat on your back.

And, inside of you, you feel something very similar to happiness, the beginning of it at least. You'd like almost to hug him. Almost.

"Another favour..." you start doubtfully. "Steven Hay. Tell him-"

He looks at you curiously.

"No matter. Don't tell him anything" you continue. "Just keep an eye on him, okay? Talk with Douglas Carter instead. Tell him what's happening, but ask him not to talk to Steven about it. Promise me. "

He nods. "Okay!" he says as soon as he places the coat on his arm. "Hopefully I can give you a definitive answer within a couple of weeks and... Brendan? "

"What?"

"Shave it all off!"