The truth is important. It's something that's always set free, no matter what. You can hide it away, by covering it with lies - but in the end, somehow - it will be set free.

That's exactly what happened with Sam and his lying mother. In order to save herself, she lied and hid the truth away. However, I solved the case. Even though the answer was explicitly there in the open, it was just covered with lies.

It just needed someone to push them to aside, and let the truth be free.

Therefore, I held Sam's prison records in my hand. I somehow had managed to comply with Mr Joan's and get a hold of his personal details - all of them. My eyes skimmed over the piece of paper, looking over his life. It included nearly everything - even where he was employed before he ended up here.

I swallowed nervously, pushing up my glasses.

I had finally lost all hope for my contacts coming, therefore I cancelled my order. The company were not pleased, but apologized for the late delivery and happily cancelled it.

Shaking off my thoughts, I put my attention back to the piece of paper in my hand. My eyes lingered on his family relatives and everyone he was in close contact with.

James Blake.

His older brother. Half-brother.

Underneath the name, Jazymn Blake, was written.

Both their phone numbers were written beside them, tempting me to processed with my actions.

The truth had only been set free for Sam and I's eyes. That was good, great actually - but not great enough. I had to set the truth fully free. Meaning, everyone important, everyone who thought wrong of Sam - needed to know.

It wasn't him. He wasn't a murderer.

Exhaling, I pulled out a sticky note pad sheet. Without a second thought, I wrote down both their numbers, only hoping it would bring me good. Well, bring Sam good.

I was doing this for him in the end.

I sat on my office chair for a few seconds, inwardly contemplating on what to do. First off, I needed to decide who I would be calling. James was the older one, where as Jazymn had to be younger. That's what Sam had told me. Since he was older, I'm guessing he was more mature.

Coming to a conclusion on who to call, I picked up my phone, unlocking it. My eyes lingered on the piece of paper, remembering a few numbers, before typing them into call. When all eleven digits were there, I pressed down on 'call'.

That's when the nerves sprung free inside my stomach. I swallowed, hearing the beeping coming from the other line. It was painful, anxious, lingering seconds, awaiting for him to pick up. I closed my eyes tightly, nervously chewing down on my bottom lip.

I'm pretty sure I was seconds away from biting it off.

"Hello?" A low, masculine voice answered the phone. My eyes popped open in as I swallowed the gulp in my throat.

"Hello?" He repeated. I opened my mouth to reply, but suddenly felt the need to clear it.

"Hello? Who is this? Shit, this better not be a prank call of some sort." He grumbled. I shook my head, but stopped when realizing he couldn't see me.

SPEAK, YOU IDIOT!

My mind taunted.

"H-Hello," I finally answered. There was a short pause, before twenty-one questions were fired up.

"Who is this? Why are you calling me? Do I know you? This better not be some sort of prank, or I swear to God I -"

"N-No, this is not a prank." I paused, inhaling a deep breath. For once in my life, I pushed the selfish nerves aside and put on a confident act.

Do it for Sam.

"I'm Isabelle Moore, Belle for short. I work at Denver Male Post Prison. I'm a nurse/therapist here and no, you don't know me, yet." I told him, letting out a deep breath when I finished. There was a short pause from the other line.

"Denver Male Post Prison, huh? May I ask why you're calling me?" He questioned, sounding curious and little annoyed. Furrowing my brows, I pushed up my glasses.

"You're James Blake, elder brother of Sam Blake -"

"- Half-brother. And what about that bastard?" He rudely interrupted. I held in a gasp, trying not to react from hearing him call Sam that.

"Uh, yes, I'm aware of your relation to him. And why on earth would you call him that?" I blurted out, unable to hold it in. I was curious to know.

"Look, I get that you're a therapist or whatever, but I'm not here to share my problems with you. Especially about him." He paused, referring to Sam with hatred. I frowned at that.

"So, if that's what you've called me for...I'll be hanging up -"

"- NO! No, no. I-I'm not calling you to ask about your personal problems and such. I'm calling for another reason." I cut him off, clearing my throat.

"Alright. What is that, then?" He asked, a noticeable sigh sounding from the phone. I bit down on my bottom lip, twisting the ring on my finger.

"You're aware of why Sam is in prison, am I correct?" I politely asked. A scoff left his lips.

"Of course I am." He muttered, harshly. I frowned.

"Well, what if I were to tell you that what you think is not true. A-And that it's all just a big misunderstanding?" I questioned, less confidently than I would have liked. That's when I heard a loud laugh escape his lips. My frown deepened.

"Yeah, right. That's a funny joke." He exhaled, his laughter fading away. Yet, the amusement lingered. I pursed my lips, trying to hold in any emotions wanting to escape.

I had to come off as professional.

"I'm being serious, Mr James. Your brother is innocent. Whatever happened the night he was arrested, it isn't as it seems. Now, I could go into detail about what really happened, if you want me to, but this is something I'd rather do in person. That is, if you're willing to meet up." I found myself saying.

Go confidence!

There was a lingering pause and I was almost sure he had hung up. However, that's when I heard him hang up. The little bubble of hope, which was sitting at the pit of my stomach, deflated. Tears of frustration pricked my eyes.

Sighing, I glanced down at my phones' screen. I tried to call him back, but I got no reply. Eventually, I got close to giving up, but then a miracle happened. A message popped up from the same unsaved number.

Smiling largely to myself, I typed back a response.

A few anxious seconds flew by, before I received a text message.

I let out a shaky breath.

Swallowing, I realized this would take up my dinner break.

Do it for Sam.

I pressed send and after I saw he read the message, I slumped back into my chair.

I only hoped this would end well.

I hung my lab coat behind my door, taking out any necessities I might need later. I put them all inside my small side-bag, before pulling on my black cardigan, knowing it wasn't exactly pleasant weather occurring on outside.

I had this strange feeling following me around the entire day. It was almost like guilt. But I wasn't sure why I would feel bad for doing this. Me going to talk to James, was because I wanted the truth to be revealed. It needed to be revealed.

I tried my hardest to push the feeling aside.

Placing my bag strap over my shoulder, I flicked off my room lights and made my way outside, gently closing the door behind me. I pushed up my glasses, making my way down the steps. I had my phone in my hands, constantly checking for a message to come from Jaxon. He texted me earlier on in the day that he would message me where exactly to meet him.

I pulled out my ID card, holding it firmly in my hands. I passed by a few inmates that didn't pay attention to me, and I was thankful for that. I passed Marco, who sent a curt nod my way. I smiled lightly back at him. I didn't hate him, yet, I didn't like him. I just didn't like the way he acted with the inmates.

Shaking off my thoughts, I turned corners. That's when I heard loud snickers and laughter. My brows furrowed, glancing up from my phone to see who was behind all the sound. My heart stuttered a little like it always did when I saw him. He stood with his two, loyal friends, smiling widely.

"Alright, alright. Let me tell you a joke," Josh suddenly spoke up, his German accent sinking through. I slowed my pace, walking towards their direction.

"Okay, but I bet it's not funny. Go on," Sam's raspy voice muttered. I smiled, playfully rolling my eyes at him.

"We'll see about that." Josh lowly said. Robert rolled his eyes, giving him a light push.

"Hurry up, before I go the authorities and deport your ass back to Germany." He joked, earning a chuckle from Sam and himself. I hid in a little laugh.

"Fick Dich," Josh flipped them off, cursing I presumed, in German.

"As I was saying. Why was the guitar teacher arrested?" He smirked, holding in a chuckle. There was silence, and both men shrugged at him.

"For fingering a minor!" He burst out laughing, Robert soon chuckling. Sam stood with an unimpressed face, but you could see the little twitch occurring at the corner of his lips. Soon he let out a soft chuckle.

"See, I told you I'm funny." Josh bragged.

"Actually, it's funny because it's not funny and you think you're funny." Sam sarcastically smiled, definitely bursting Josh's bubble of hope. He rolled his eyes, while Robert laughed in the background.

"Oh god, I hate both of you." He randomly said through laughter. Josh laughed along with him, while Sam shrugged. It was then he glanced around and his eyes landed on me. A noticeable spark went off in his eyes.

"Belle," He called, suddenly forgetting about his friends and walking over to me. I smiled, speeding up my pace a little to meet him.

"You're so mean to him," I giggled, unable to hold it in. He chuckled, licking his pink lips. It was then his eyes grazed over me, taking me in from head to toe.

"Where are you going?" He asked, his eyes lingering on my cardigan, which normally would have been my lab coat. That's when I grew nervous. Clearing my throat, I pushed up my glasses.

"Just, uh, out to the shops. D-Do you want anything? I can bring you something back." I lied and tried to change the subject. He smiled, wrapping his arms around my waist.

"It's fine, Baby Belle. You don't have to get me anything." He waved off, leaning down to press his lips against my forehead. My heart fluttered from the cute nickname, which I adored so much.

"No, but I want to. What would you like?" I pressed. A little glint crossed his eyes.

"I don't know...uh, any sort of chocolate? And no more cookies, please. I'm getting sick of them." I chuckled at his grimace.

"Okay, how about jam doughnuts?" I suggested, earning a thoughtful nod from him.

"That's perfect. But come give me some real sugar first." He winked, making me furiously blush. He soon leaned down, pressing his soft lips against mine. They were always so moisturized and soft, it surprised me. When his tongue thrust out, I had to stop. After all, we were standing in an open prison corridor.

"Sam," I called, gently placing a hand against his chest. He mumbled to himself, nodding as he took a step back.

"I'll be back soon." I whispered, pecking his lips chastely.

"Let me walk you half-way." He suggested and I couldn't find myself declining.

"That's right, Sam. Get it!" Josh yelled, making Robert punch him in the stomach.

"Horny immigrant." He mumbled. I smiled, trying to hide the guilt I was inwardly feeling.

"Hey, Robert. Hi, Josh." I greeted. They both sent a curt nod my way, smiling.

"Take care, Belle." Sam whispered, and I noticed the sadness that flashed his eyes as he forced himself to let go of my waist.

"I will, you too, Sam." I lastly said, before walking off.

Never had I felt so guilty before in my entire life.

I sat on the park bench, glancing around for any signs of a thirty-year old man. However, I failed to see so. I was losing hope and had come to believe that James had lied and stood me up.

It had been almost fifteen minutes with me waiting for him and I had less than hour left until my dinner break was over.

"Belle?" I heard a familiar voice call, snapping me out of my thoughts. My head shot upwards, seeing a tall, brown-eyed male standing in-front of me. His light blonde hair was styled backwards and as I looked closely, I could see the relation him and Sam held.

"James Blake?" I questioned. He nodded, taking a seat beside me.

"That's me," He mumbled.

"Sorry I took so long," I shook my head, waving him off.

"That's all fine. But what I'm here for..." I cleared my throat, nervously twisting the ring on my finger. His brows furrowed and his jaw ticked as he leaned forward.

"About my bastard of a half-brother. Tell me," He muttered. I swallowed, pushing up my glasses.

"What you and everyone else think happened, didn't really. You all believe that it was Justin behind your father's death, when it really was someone else." I paused, awaiting for him to say something. But he didn't.

"There were three people present during the...event. However, one of them was unconscious, that being Sam. Your father and him were having a fight, until Sam banged his head against the table and got knocked out. Your father was weak too, but he desired to kill Sam." I explained to him. He listened carefully.

"Sam's mother must have got a hold of the knife and...killed him. Guilt must have overcome her, which cause her to hand the knife to Sam and make it seem like it was him who was behind it, when it was really her." I told him. His eyes went wide, before he narrowed them at me.

"How do you know all of that?"

"Because, I've heard both sides of the story. And trust me, I know which one is the lie and which one is the truth. Imagine waking up and having a bloody knife in your hand, not remembering how it got there, and then looking at your dead father on the ground, while your mother mutters to herself. Suddenly, you're accused of being a murderer, even if you were unconscious." I tried to imagine being in Sam's shoes.

"But, that doesn't make sense. Why would Pattie lie?" He asked, with a frown. I shrugged, tugging at my cardigans sleeves.

"That's exactly what I'm thinking. I believe it was to save herself, which is extremely selfish." I mumbled. A silence waved over the air.

"So...my little brother isn't guilty?" He suddenly asked. My heart melted a little.

"No, he's not. He's in prison serving time for his mother's mistake, while he's completely innocent." I frowned. A small smile danced onto his lips and he sighed, rubbing the back of his neck.

"This is all so fucked up," He truthfully said, making me nod along.

It really was.

"You're sure, Belle? Cause I don't want to be thinking -"

"- I'm positively sure he isn't behind it." I softly told him. There was a large silence in the air and the only sound to be heard was children laughing and dogs barking.

"Well, if it's like that, I want him out." He suddenly said. That's when a grin broke out onto my lips.

"And that's why I've called you here." I started, but before I could continue, his brows furrowed at me curiously.

"Why do you care so much?" He questioned. I blushed, pushing up my glasses.

"Sam...he's special. T-That's all." I whispered, glancing away from him for a second. I felt his eyes linger on me, though he remained silent.

"Right. Now back to what you were saying."

Clearing my throat, I began explaining what we could do to get him out of there.

He was finally going to get the justice he needed.

It's what my Sam deserved.

•••••