having done many other things you’re not proud of, and I know you couldn’t resist the temptation that Philip’s upbringing, or lack thereof, afforded you.
I was serious when I said that nothing you’ve done could sway my faith in you, nor kill the love I have for you. You are my destiny and I won’t allow another few years in prison deter me from it.
Let me introduce you to your future: I’m Shanice Anderson Bailey, daughter of Isaiah and Brenda Bailey, sister of Ezekiel and Ezra Bailey. I am a nursing student at Stanford University. Purple is my favorite color. The Kings of Leon are my favorite band. I cry when I watch sappy romantic comedies. I read a book almost every week, simply because I love getting immersed into the lives of fictional characters. I love a man who has had my back since we were children, and I will never stop loving him.
Now I have to go study, but I will write again. Never fear that I won’t.
Yours always and forever,
Shanice
Letter writing is one of those lost arts that Trevor had never mastered. In this digital era, all he wanted to do was email and text Shanice, but he knew those modes of contact could be easily scrutinized. However, he felt like by the time he got her letter, the immediacy of response was lost. Especially when she could be struggling with something, or needed his shoulder to lean on. Getting his response a week later just didn’t cut it.
Donald Hemphill, of all people, gave him the answer to his dilemma.
“Your girl is in a college dormitory, right?”
“Yeah.”
“You know those hall payphones, the landlines, they’re available for use by everybody in the building, even though most students today have cell phones.”
“Right.”
“So, all you need is some money on your telephone card account, and you can call her on the payphone in her dorm.”
“You’re a genius, Hemphill.”
“Tell me something I don’t know.”
“Man, I could kiss you!”
“You do, and you’ll draw back a face with no lips.”
“You’ve got a billion dollars to recover through me. You can’t do that.”
“You don’t need lips to write code.”
“Oh, right.”
“Speaking of which. Get back to it, dude. I’m outta here in thirty minutes, and like I’ve told you a million times. You are not my only case.”
Trevor Landon Kyle /05555-055
FCI victorville
FEDERAL CORRECTIONAL INSTITUTION
P.O. BOX 5555
VICTORVILLE, CA 61555
June 30, 2010
Dear Shanice:
You may not have Isaiah and Brenda Bailey’s blood, but you’re certainly their daughter! For the first two years I was locked up, your letters were my lifeline, my grip on reality, my only hope in this seemingly hopeless place. But it was your visit last week that finally convinced me your unwavering faith in me is not misplaced. I’m willing to accept it, because as you said, “Faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen.”
You put your complete trust and confidence in me the first day we met, but I’ve held myself away from you, because everyone else in my life left me. I couldn’t wrap my head around the idea that you would never forsake me until last week. For a little woman, you’re certainly not a pushover. You say I’m the one who schooled you, but I can’t remember being as strong for you as you’ve been for me over the years.
From this day forward, I’m yours in good times and bad, forever and always. What I hate now more than pushing you away after David and Elena died, or pushing you away again before I came here, was not realizing my mistake and acting on it while you were here. Thank God you didn’t take my irrational doubts to heart.
Since we were children, I’ve hoped for so much for both of us, despite my life taking tragic turn after turn. I’m so happy the Baileys were able to give you the stability you deserved. I can only hope when I’m released, we can take the time to build the kind of life we’ve always longed for…
I was serious when I said that nothing you’ve done could sway my faith in you, nor kill the love I have for you. You are my destiny and I won’t allow another few years in prison deter me from it.
Let me introduce you to your future: I’m Shanice Anderson Bailey, daughter of Isaiah and Brenda Bailey, sister of Ezekiel and Ezra Bailey. I am a nursing student at Stanford University. Purple is my favorite color. The Kings of Leon are my favorite band. I cry when I watch sappy romantic comedies. I read a book almost every week, simply because I love getting immersed into the lives of fictional characters. I love a man who has had my back since we were children, and I will never stop loving him.
Now I have to go study, but I will write again. Never fear that I won’t.
Yours always and forever,
Shanice
Letter writing is one of those lost arts that Trevor had never mastered. In this digital era, all he wanted to do was email and text Shanice, but he knew those modes of contact could be easily scrutinized. However, he felt like by the time he got her letter, the immediacy of response was lost. Especially when she could be struggling with something, or needed his shoulder to lean on. Getting his response a week later just didn’t cut it.
Donald Hemphill, of all people, gave him the answer to his dilemma.
“Your girl is in a college dormitory, right?”
“Yeah.”
“You know those hall payphones, the landlines, they’re available for use by everybody in the building, even though most students today have cell phones.”
“Right.”
“So, all you need is some money on your telephone card account, and you can call her on the payphone in her dorm.”
“You’re a genius, Hemphill.”
“Tell me something I don’t know.”
“Man, I could kiss you!”
“You do, and you’ll draw back a face with no lips.”
“You’ve got a billion dollars to recover through me. You can’t do that.”
“You don’t need lips to write code.”
“Oh, right.”
“Speaking of which. Get back to it, dude. I’m outta here in thirty minutes, and like I’ve told you a million times. You are not my only case.”
Trevor Landon Kyle /05555-055
FCI victorville
FEDERAL CORRECTIONAL INSTITUTION
P.O. BOX 5555
VICTORVILLE, CA 61555
June 30, 2010
Dear Shanice:
You may not have Isaiah and Brenda Bailey’s blood, but you’re certainly their daughter! For the first two years I was locked up, your letters were my lifeline, my grip on reality, my only hope in this seemingly hopeless place. But it was your visit last week that finally convinced me your unwavering faith in me is not misplaced. I’m willing to accept it, because as you said, “Faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen.”
You put your complete trust and confidence in me the first day we met, but I’ve held myself away from you, because everyone else in my life left me. I couldn’t wrap my head around the idea that you would never forsake me until last week. For a little woman, you’re certainly not a pushover. You say I’m the one who schooled you, but I can’t remember being as strong for you as you’ve been for me over the years.
From this day forward, I’m yours in good times and bad, forever and always. What I hate now more than pushing you away after David and Elena died, or pushing you away again before I came here, was not realizing my mistake and acting on it while you were here. Thank God you didn’t take my irrational doubts to heart.
Since we were children, I’ve hoped for so much for both of us, despite my life taking tragic turn after turn. I’m so happy the Baileys were able to give you the stability you deserved. I can only hope when I’m released, we can take the time to build the kind of life we’ve always longed for…
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