Previously in "2nd Time Around":

In 1996, Sarah Griffin walked in on her neighbor, who had murdered his family. in 1998, she was convicted and sentenced to death for these killings. In 2006, the state of Virginia failed to execute Sarah in the electric chair.


2006:

"Grace Collins!" a corrections officer called. "Grace Collins!"

Grace rose and approached him. Confirming her name, he recited the visitation procedure and the rules with it. The visit would be no-contact, and nothing would be exchanged between the inmate and her visitor. Officers would be monitoring the visit the entire time and any criminal activity discussed could be used in court. The visitor would remain in their seat until an officer came to take them out.

"You understand all that?" the officer asked.

"Yes, Sir," Grace replied.

"Let's go."

He led her through a door and they arrived at another security checkpoint. Grace handed over her bag, which was searched, and she was patted down and wanded with a handheld metal detector. She presented her license again and, after the search was completed, was deemed to not have any contraband.

"This way," the officer said, leading her down a corridor.

As they walked, Grace noticed the multiple security cameras mounted on the ceiling, staring down at her. She felt like these cameras were someone who wasn't sure why they felt suspicious about her but knew they ought to be suspicious nonetheless.

Grace wasn't sure why she was nervous. She'd been to prisons before, though she was always accompanied by a full-fledged attorney. This was admittedly her first time at a prison for a death penalty case. her prior work against capital punishment had been purely research and writing ... no human involvement.

"So," The officer inquired, glancing over his shoulder, "you're here to see Sarah Griffin?"

His query sounded more curious than anything else.

"Yes, Sir," Grace replied.

"She took quite some electricity a few weeks ago," the officer remarked. "She only just came out of our hospital here."

Grace nodded, not sure if the first part of that statement was meant to be witty. She didn't think it was.

"You know what she did, right?" the officer asked. "The way she cut up those kids and their mama up in Arlington?"

"I've read about the case," Grace replied.

"The dad tried to stop her. Even though she was his gal on the side, he didn't want her killing his family. She threw him down some stairs to shut him up and then blamed it all on him."

Grace nodded again. These were some of the rumors and semi-proven facts surrounding Sarah Inez Griffin. Between being one of the few women ever condemned in Virginia and then surviving her own execution, she'd risen from being a prominent figure to one of the most infamous inmates in the state, male or female.

"I ain't a fan of what happened to her," the officer admitted as they reached the visitation room. "But she deserves to die for what she did. There's no doubt in my mind about that. Deep down, she's evil ... just plain evil."

Grace figured he'd never interacted with Sarah Griffin. She knew the personnel assigned to guard the men and women sentenced to die generally became uncomfortable with the prospect, having formed friendly bonds with some of these inmates. That was why the Execution Chamber was housed in another prison far from here.

This officer led Grace down a long line of visitation booths to the one at the end. It differed from the others in that the inmate's side was enclosed by a cage. The officer explained this booth was reserved for inmates held in administrative segregation or on Death Row.

"Have a seat," he said. "Sarah will be right out."

Grace sat and looked through the glass which, with its wooden frame, split the booth in half. There was a speaker built into the frame to allow the inmate to communicate with their visitor. There was no way to make physical contact or pass along anything ... not that Grace wanted to try. She thought the glass could use a serious dose of Windex.

Grace reached into her bag as a nearby corrections officer became alert and watched her for signs of trouble. She withdrew a sheet of paper, having jotted down some questions while reviewing the case file. The officer relaxed again, surveying the room. The way his eyes swept up and down the row of booths reminded Grace of the sweeping shots her cousin took with his video camera. Back and forth across the row ... back and forth. It was unnerving and Grace wished she had some French fries to nibble on.

There were three other visits going on and a fourth inmate was soon brought out to meet with an older woman ... maybe her mother. Grace glanced over before returning to her questions.

She looked up, hearing a squeaking sound. The cage on the other side of the glass was being opened and she saw yet another corrections officer, along with a portion of a wheelchair and a leg covered by the standard orange, state-issued prison pants.

Sarah Griffin came into view as the officer and a colleague lifted her out of the chair and into the booth. Though she knew little about disabilities, Grace could tell the officers weren't doing a good job as Sarah nearly landed on the floor in the process. They finally got her onto the bench inside the cage, one of them shoving from behind to finish the task before shutting the door. No one removed the handcuffs on her wrists, though someone had thought it'd be easier on Sarah if she were cuffed in front. Small favors.

Unable to stay upright on her own, Sarah reached out and found the bars of the cage, grabbing them for support. She did not look thrilled to be there and Grace made a silent vow not to keep her there long.

"Hello," she said, but she didn't know how to continue. Being in this woman's presence seemed to mute her.

"So," Sarah said, her voice peppered with static from the speaker, "you're the law student here to impress Doug. Grace Collins, right?"

She didn't sound impressed and Grace felt she'd be passing along an unfavorable report no matter what. Still, Grace was determined to try.

"Yes," she said, figuring Doug had told his client her name. She noticed Sarah was looking down and felt sure she knew why.

"You don't have to do that," she said. "You can pick your head up."

"You'll run screaming," Sarah remarked. "I'm not a pretty sight these days. It's probably the only thing that spares me from any abuse or intimidation in this place. People around here don't even wanna look at me ... then again, I've never been the most popular. Killers of children aren't high up on the prison totem pole, especially in a women's prison ... lots of moms and all that. You'd wish they'd cared so much on the outside."

Grace could tell Sarah had what most would consider a boy's haircut. It almost reached her ears and was probably still growing back.

"I won't go anywhere," Grace promised.

Sarah considered this and raised her head, keeping her eyes wide open.

Grace was speechless. The most noticeable feature on the condemned woman's face was the two empty eye sockets, each looking like a small dark vortex which led into vast nothingness. The skin looked red and raw while scabs were visible around the rims.

Grace must have been silent longer than she thought because Sarah suddenly called out for an officer. She seemed to believe the woman had fled and wanted to go back to her cell.

"No, no," Grace said, hurrying to stop her. "I'm sorry. I'm still here."

"Shocking, isn't it?" Sarah asked, looking down again. she seemed unaware of her choice of words. Nevertheless, Grace cringed.

"Please don't," she said. "you don't have to do that. It's okay. You can pick your head up."

"What do you want?" Sarah asked, straightening up again.

Grace took another moment to collect herself. The sight wasn't so shocking the second time around ... there was that word again. She swallowed the lump in her throat.

"I want to help you," she said.

"Uh-huh," Sarah remarked, and Grace could tell she wasn't buying it.

"Really. You don't deserve to be on Death Row."

"What, the blind and crippled shouldn't be executed?" Sarah asked. "should that be the next Supreme Court case? The underage and the mentally handicapped already got theirs. You suppose it's my turn now? Hmm?"

"I'm saying you don't deserve to be in prison."

"What makes you say that?" Sarah asked, sounding mildly curious.

"Did you kill all those people? Did you murder that entire family?"

Sarah said nothing.

"I've read the case file," Grace added.

"Then what do you think?" Sarah queried.

"No."

Sarah took a deep breath.

"That's not true," she said. "I killed that man. Monster or not, I killed Ben Parker."

"It was an accident," Grace pointed out. "self-defense at worst."

"I still killed him. I can't change that. No facts can change that."

"You don't deserve to be in prison."

Grace's prepared questions were forgotten.

"Wouldn't make a difference now," Sarah said. "I can't even sit up on my own. My body has become my prison."

She paused, her hands flexing as she gripped the cage's bars a little tighter. It was as though this gesture was meant to emphasize her point.

"You don't deserve that either," Grace said. "I think it's terrible what they did to you."

"Well, riding in on your ambitions isn't going to change anything," Sarah said. "They have me cold for these four murders. It stinks, but no one's been able to do anything about it yet, so I'm not ready to believe that'll change now. Oh, I'm sure you're smart. You sound like you've got a good head on your shoulders. But they want to fix their screw-up ... killing me is the only way. I just have to bide my time before they convince the courts to let them do it. They'll find a way. Nothing can change that."

She glanced over her shoulder.

"C-O!" she called out.

A corrections officer came over.

"What's the matter?" he asked, sounding annoyed about being summoned.

"I'm tired of this," Sarah said. "I want to go back to My cell."

Grace said this was fine and added a "good-bye."

"I'd like to come back and see you again," she said.

The condemned woman didn't respond. The officer had called over one of his colleagues while lifting her by her shoulders and pulling her back across the bench. Her limp feet hit the linoleum floor as another officer arrived to grab her legs. They got her back into her wheelchair and She was taken away.

Grace worked to collect herself as she waited for another officer to come and escort her out. She had to concentrate in order not to cry ... not in this place.

* * *

Doug seemed to have quite some pull within Wheeler, Lex, & Sutton. This was evident when he recruited yet another associate to bring Grace to him on her second visit, even though he wasn't stuck on the phone this time.

He looked up as she stepped into the office, once again wearing her navy-blue skirt and jacket. Her hair was down again, held back by pins.

"I heard about your visit with Sarah," Doug said. "Guess you caught her on a bad day. She's had more of those since the execution."

He sighed and adjusted his sunglasses. Grace nodded as she sat in the same place as last time.

"She doesn't deserve any of what happened to her," she said, her voice shaking. She noticed the photo of Sarah on the wall and burst into tears, remembering the broken, frustrated, sad woman in the prison. She thought about how simple it had been for her to leave that place and get back in her car. She'd stared back at the foreboding, brick building, understanding Sarah wasn't given such a luxury.

Doug passed a box of tissues and across his desk. He waited for Grace to collect herself, seeming patient this time.

"I don't have all the funding in the world available," he said. "I can only pay you minimum wage."

Being a private firm, Wheeler, Lex, & Sutton was required by law to pay its interns, even if it was minimum wage.

"I'll see if I can reimburse you for gas to drive back and forth from North Carolina," Doug added. "Since your dad knows one of the partners, it won't be the hardest sell in the world to my bosses."

"Y ... you're giving me the job?" Grace stammered, surprised. "w ... why?"

"You came back. After my disastrous first intern, I did try it with two others. Sent them both to meet Sarah. One couldn't bring herself to drive into the prison while the other nearly wet himself in the parking lot, and that was all before the execution. The fact that you are sitting here, genuinely upset, tells me more than anything you reeled off last week. For one thing, you came back, which is more than I can say for those other two. They mailed me back her file."

Grace then remembered. She pulled the thick manila folder from her shoulder bag and set it down on his desk.

"I really do want to help her," she said. She took yet another look at the photo of Sarah. Doug looked at it as well, his stern expression making it clear he wouldn't explain when, where, or how it was taken. It wasn't a mug shot, but that was the only obvious attribute. Grace looked at Doug and nodded. She wouldn't ask.

"thank you for this opportunity," she said instead.

Doug still didn't say anything.

"So," Grace continued, "when do I start?"

"Now," Doug replied, passing her some forms. "Fill these out so you are officially among the ranks of the employed. Then, I've got some stuff for you to do."

"What kind of stuff?" Grace asked, curious and eager.

"Strange as it may be, the potential of Sarah being executed is not the most pressing concern for us right now. I've filed a petition for a stay until the investigation into the botched electrocution is officially concluded. The state's Supreme Court granted it and the Attorney General isn't running off anywhere to get that overturned right now."

"Are you working on a lawsuit against the Department of Corrections?"

"I am, but that is also not the most pressing concern."

"Then what is?"

Doug paused, seeming to consider how to explain his point.

"You may have noticed some of the problems Sarah is having," he replied. "She was just released from the hospital over at Fluvanna and she's not adjusting well to her current living arrangements. I've gotten calls about more than one accident."

He grabbed a piece of paper, wrote down a name, and handed it to Grace.

"When you're finished with those forms, give them to the secretary down the hall," he instructed. "She'll give you a security badge, which you will keep with you whenever you are here. Then, park yourself up in our law library and look up everything about this woman. And I mean I want to know absolutely everything. Right down to the name of the cereal she has for breakfast and the type of shampoo she uses to wash her dog."

He paused and stared at Grace.

"It's not going to be easy ... any of this. Prosecutors don't like to admit they've put an innocent person on Death Row. Anything we get has got to be rock-solid to get us any results. We've got a lot of uphill battles coming."

Grace nodded.

* * *

"Sign here," The corrections officer said, pointing out the spot on the second form. "It states I examined the contents you are carrying without in any way violating attorney/client privilege."

Doug and Grace signed it. Neither of them was carrying anything sensitive in their respective briefcase and bag anyway. As Doug put it, they only brought them along to annoy the officers who had to go through them for security purposes, no matter what was inside. He seemed to like messing with these people a little bit.

They were led down a corridor and into a small room meant for attorneys and their clients. Sarah was already there, cuffed to the table and propping herself up on her elbows. She looked up at her visitors.

"Your hair's growing back nicely," Doug commented. "Soon you'll actually need a trip to the salon."

Sarah smiled. Two and a half months after the execution, her hair was indeed starting to look feminine again.

"Having a good day today?" Doug asked.

"I guess," Sarah said, shrugging her shoulders as best she could.

"Then let's get down to business. you remember Grace Collins, right?"

Sarah nodded and tried to wave off a question about a long scratch on her cheek. When Doug kept pressing, she admitted she got it while dealing with her disability in her cell but refused to elaborate ...