"What do you mean, she's being transferred?" Alexander yelled, glaring at the man that was sitting on the other side of the desk. "There hasn't even been a trial yet!"

"Everything was expedited given the nature of the crime." The lawyer replied without even looking at him.

"Don't say crime like she's some sort of terrorist." Alexander clenched his jaw.

"Well, the accuses against her are pretty strong. I couldn't do much other than settle." The other man shrugged. "My client accepted a plea bargain."

"And you're ok with an innocent woman going to prison?!"

"But she is not innocent, is she?" The man rolled his eyes. "The evidence against her is pretty solid. I'm sorry."

Alexander slammed his hand onto the desk, cursing, then left. Solid evidence, he scoffed to himself as he walked out of the lawyer's office. More like, fabricated.

Attempted murder, they'd accused Emma of attempted murder, claiming there was proof that she had not just threatened this person, but actually tried to kill them. No, it wasn't possible. Emma would never. This had Nancy Dorsey written all over it.

"Yes, I did it." Emma nodded. Sitting before a glass, communicating only with a phone, surrounded by women that had been found guilty of the most various crimes – it felt like déja vu. Except this time, on the other side of that glass, there was a man whose disappointment she could clearly read in his eyes and not just a random lawyer she couldn't care less about.

"You ... what?"

"Remember that guy we talked about the night we ... the first night?" She pursed her lips.

"The one you slapped for grabbing your ass?" Alexander asked, confused.

"That one." She nodded. "Well, that wasn't the last time I saw him." When he didn't react, Emma sighed. "Not what you think." She immediately defended.

"I don't know what I think." He rolled his eyes. "And you know I don't judge, especially given ... well, you know." He waved his free hand in the air, as if to dismiss and remind her at the same time.

"Yeah." She heaved a deep sigh, feeling silly for having doubted Alexander even for a split second. Given his past, he of all people knew not to judge a book by its cover and to not jump to conclusions.

"So, what happened?" Alexander asked, inching closer to the glass. Lowering his voice, he added: "Or is it not safe to talk about it here?"

"I met him by chance. I'd just come from a job interview, he appeared out of nowhere at the bus stop. He mocked me, laughed at me, claiming he would make it impossible for me to find another workplace, because he was a big shot and whatever." Emma recounted, grimacing when she reminded herself that she was hiding half of it. Last thing she needed was for Alexander to go playing avenging hero to protect her honor.

"You threw him under a bus? Slapped him again? What, exactly, do they count as attempted murder?" He raised his voice a little, frustrated. Of all the possible scenarios he'd considered when going after her, none entailed being on the opposite side of a glass that for a long time he'd only seen from the inside.

If anything, he'd expected to be in her shoes, instead, already prefiguring the months he'd spend talking to the love of his life without being able to touch her, the days he'd count until he could finally hug her again. Never would he have imagined the exact thing would happen, but with reversed roles.

"I punched him," Emma shrugged nonchalantly. One thing that surprised Alexander was the way with which she'd just accepted her fate. She wasn't scared nor surprised, as if she expected it.

"That's it?"

"Yeah."

"That's not attempted murder!" Alexander yelled, outraged, jumping up. When a guard gestured for him to sit down, he did, not wanting to be thrown out – he wouldn't be able to see her for another 3 weeks.

"The thing is," Emma continued, her voice low and steady, "that punch broke his nose, and he claimed that he gained some sort of impairment because of it."

"Still not attempted murder." Alexander grumbled.

"True. But there are-uh ... precedents."

He frowned. "What kind of precedents?"

Emma sighed, lowering her head for a moment. "There's a lot you don't know about me."

"I already told you I don't care who you were, I love who you are." Alexander stated solemnly.

"Yes, but the thing is, something I did in the past is now being used against me." She pursed her lips, looking around her. The other women in the room seemed busy with their own visitors while the guards talked between themselves.

"What is it?"

Emma took a deep breath. "I ... did Nancy ever tell you ..."

"Nancy hasn't told me anything." Alexander interrupted, snorting. "She tried, sure, but I prefer to hear it from you." He eyed her closely. "Whatever it is, it can't be worse than what I confessed."

"Emma isn't ... I told you this isn't my ..." she neared the class, inching the phone closer, and whispered: "I told you this isn't my real name."

"Yeah."

"My ... Allison," she murmured, not wanting the others to hear it, "Allison Healy is my real name."

"Ok?" Alexander replied, confused as to why that mattered. "Do you want me to cite you Shakespeare now?" When she looked baffled, he chuckled lightly, cheering up for a moment as he quoted: "What is a name? That which we call a rose, by any other name would smell as sweet."

"Cute." She conceded, rolling her eyes, albeit amused.

"What difference does it make if ..." he lowered his voice, "if your name is Emma or Allison?"

"I'm just trying to explain." She rolled her eyes once again, and a third time when he gestured for her to go on. "I've lived different lives," she whispered, "and I don't have time to tell you all about them right now. What you need to know, is that Allison, she ... she did attempt to someone's life."

Alexander didn't understand why did she refer to herself in third person, but he didn't mention it. All he asked was: "And what does that have to do with Emma?"

"Somehow, they know what I did as ... Allison, so they're using it to prove that it's not out of character."

"I still don't understand."

Emma sighed. "It's a long story."

"I've got time."

"I don't."

"I would beg to differ. If there's one thing you have in prison, it's time."

She sent him a dirty look, but he didn't budge. When the guards started notifying the visitors that it was time to go, she was almost relieved, but Alexander's look was determined.

Emma pursed her lips. At this point, there was no use in hiding anything to him, was there? She thought. "Ok," she said, standing up when one of the guards called her name, "I ... will write and ... hopefully it will be delivered."

Dear Alexander,

I love you and I miss you a lot. Every day without you is a nightmare and I can only fall asleep thinking about you. I had a photo of you, but my bunkmate started being nosy, so I hid it under my pillow. I look at it every time I'm in bed.

No, I haven't suddenly become romantic and cheesy. The guards check every letter, in and out, but they only read the first two sentences. Now, as promised, here's my story. Just promise me you won't look at me differently. I'm not a great writer and I don't have much paper available – I had to trade my soap and my comb for more pages.

I was born as Allison Healy. My dad died when I was 15, my mother remarried soon. I wasn't an easy teenager, losing my dad made me lose control, so I acted up, committed petty crimes such as shoplifting. My stepfather convinced my mother to send me to boot camp.

One of the counselors was nice to me, kind of protected me, but his wife saw into it more than what was really going on, and because she was at the head of the camp, she was able to make my life really miserable, pushing bullies against me.

I ran away from boot camp as soon as I could, and spent the next 2 years under the radar, to avoid child services. My mother didn't look for me anyway. The only way I could survive, was to sell myself.

Alexander caught himself gasping out loud as he stopped reading. Selling herself, he repeated in his mind, she couldn't mean ...

Yes, you read it right. Prostitution. At my worst, I sold myself for a hamburger even. Luckily, it didn't last long. I met Daniel, the one and only meaningful relationship I've ever had. Although, looking back, he was just another great pretender.

We were together for about a year or so. One night, we got wasted, and stole his father's car. That's how I ended up in prison. The old man blamed me only, obviously, I took the fall for something his son had decided to do. I spent about 2 years and a half in jail.

When I got out, there was nothing left for Allison Healy. So, I changed name. I became Chloe, lovely waitress from Florida. She was even too lovely, handsy clients thought they were funny when they slapped her ass or urged her to sit on their lap. I changed city and name again soon enough.

I became a Jennifer. Oh, Jennifer lasted a bit longer ... until I met someone I thought I could trust. Spoiler alert: it was a big mistake. I guess that, after Daniel, I should have learned. Never thought I'd meet someone even worse than him. I'm sure even you have come across a sex tape starring a Jennifer Hogan.

It took me a long time and a change in features such as hairstyle and even eye color (thank God, they invented colored contact lenses), way of dressing and talking. I thought I'd buried it, left it behind me, but Nancy managed to find it.

There were other names, but the only one that's lasted longest was Emma Hudson. Emma as Emma Watson, my favorite celebrity as a child; Hudson as the Hudson river in New York City, my dad used to tell me many stories about it.

My dad, he was actually from Queens, he moved when he was young, then met my mother and never went back. So, he told me a lot of stories about New York, and yes, it's the reason why, as Emma Hudson, I chose to come here.

Allison wasn't the only prostitute, to be honest. I fell into it a couple of times. It was hard to keep a job as waitress or clerk, either because I "mistreated" clients or because I was a "hot-head", or just both. And you know, the most ancient job in the world is that for a reason: it's always on demand.

I sincerely hope that knowing this will not change the way you look at me. But if it does, I will understand.

Alexander rolled his eyes at the last phrase. Typical of Emma, he thought, always a step ahead to protect herself. And, now he knew, with good reason. But if she didn't run away when he told her what he'd done, how could he even only think about abandoning her over such a triviality. Especially now.

The thing is, as Allison, I mostly committed those petty crimes I mentioned, but as Jennifer, I ... well, remember the guy I mentioned a few lines above? The one I thought I could trust? Yeah, I may or may not have kind of ... trashed his car with him in it. It wasn't attempted murder, tsk. But he sure made it sound like it was, even though in the end he withdrew the charges.

They're using that and the other petty crimes against me to make a case about how dangerous I am. And when I say they, I mean Nancy, obviously. She's also claiming that I did something to her, which I did not, but she came to court all gauzed up and "scared", and she's a white rich lawyer coming from a powerful family, while I'm ... well me. It was really easy.

So, yeah, it's all done. My lawyer told me to plead guilty because I would never get a verdict that saw me innocent. Yes, he's a disaster, but what can you expect from a public defense attorney that has a load of other cases to mind?

I'm telling you all this just to give you a full explanation, which I couldn't give in the visiting room – too many eyes and ears. Prison is like high school: gossip can ruin your life.

You shouldn't worry about me, you know. It's not the first time, I'll be fine. But I cannot ask you to wait 15 years. Yeah, I don't know how, but Nancy managed to get me the max sentence. I know what I said when they arrested me, but 15 years is a long time, Alexander, even for you.

"Ugh, seriously?" He scoffed, rolling his eyes once again. This woman and her stubbornness, she would drive him insane. But there had to be a way to change the odds. He was the living proof that, with the right tools, everything was possible.

The easiest solution would be to bow to Nancy, give her what she wanted, renouncing to Emma for good. But there had to be a way with which he could get her out of jail and they could still be together.