An instant later his full attention had shifted from the immovable wall to an approaching waist. His suddenly alert eyes proceeded to rove silently over everything both above and below that gently bobbing dividing line.

The guards looked, too. Visitants like Dr. Serena Kogan were rare in Longview. Her title was not what interested them, though Wright’s reaction was more conflicted than they would have suspected. Long used to such blatant testosterone-fueled stares, Kogan ignored them.

Still in her thirties, she was unconventionally beautiful. Part of this was due to the nature of her work, which gave her an aspect of perfection that was partly the result of intense concentration. Uncharacteristically, desperation announced itself in the slight gauntness of her face and the tightness of her lips. It detracted from her beauty only slightly.

Halting outside his cell, she looked in and met Wright’s gaze without flinching. The ensuing silence between them spoke, if not volumes, at least a word or two. He looked up at the priest.

“Leave.” Emerging from the prisoner’s mouth, it was plainly a command and not a request.

His State-supported visitor gestured hesitantly with the Bible he held.

“I’m not finished, son.”

Wright’s gaze shifted from wall to uninvited confessor. His stare was, arguably, more unyielding than the concrete. It was not necessary for him to respond—verbally.

As pragmatic as he was well-meaning, the priest got the message. As the heavy metal door was pulled back he did not even glance in the direction of the new arrival. He was lost in his own thoughts, which were not as comforting as he would have liked.

One of the guards managed to raise his gaze from the rest of Serena Kogan to her face long enough to give her a warning nod.