”Thought you’d like to know. A dead body means business for you, don’t it? Sort of like an undertaker.”

He winked at his partner and they shared a laugh.

Even Johnny Wayne smiled. After they left, I stayed on the wall for a few minutes, their laughter and Johnny Wayne’s vulgar confession replaying in my head. The rattle of the chains faded as they led him away.

My head started to pound and my stomach tightened as I made my way back through the labyrinth of steel and concrete. I was sick of defending the Johnny Wayne Neals of this world, and I was sick of being mocked and laughed at by assholes like the two guards. I reminded myself that I was getting out of the legal profession. In less than a year, I’d be free of it. No more Johnny Waynes. No more assholes.

As I made my way towards the entrance, I tried to tell myself to take it easy. Don’t let it get to you.

You did your job. I forced myself to think about something more pleasant. My birthday. Celebrating with my wife, Caroline, and the kids, the most important and beautiful people in my life. Chocolate cake. What would I wish for this year?

It came to me as I stepped out the front door into the rain, and the thought made me smile. The chances of the wish coming true were about a million to one, but what the hell? Why not?

This year, I’d make my birthday wish simple and selfish. This year, before I gave up the practice of law, I’d wish for one-just one-innocent client.

April 12

8:45 a.m.

An hour later, I was sitting in my truck in the parking lot at the Washington County Courthouse in downtown Jonesborough. It’s a postcard-pretty little town, the oldest in Tennessee, nestled in the rolling hills ninety miles northeast of Knoxville. I looked across the street at the International Storytelling Center, which was built a few years ago and brings Jonesborough a limited amount of national acclaim.