From the Desk of Zoe Washington(34)

“Perfectly al dente,” Grandma said.

“Al what-te?” I asked.

She laughed. “It’s a term chefs use to describe the texture of the pasta. You want it to still be a little firm when you bite into it.”

“Oh.”

We drained the macaroni and then poured it into a baking dish. We poured the cheese sauce on top and mixed it all together. I loved the weird squishy sound the macaroni made as we mixed the cheese in. Finally, we sprinkled some more shredded cheese on top and put the baking dish in the oven.

I helped Grandma clean up the mess while the mac and cheese baked.

“Are you excited to talk to Marcus again?” she asked as she opened her dishwasher.

“Yes. And nervous,” I said. “But mostly excited. It was really nice to get to hear his voice. Thank you for letting me.”

Grandma smiled. “You’re welcome, baby.”

When the timer went off, we took the macaroni and cheese out of the oven. The layer of cheese on the top was a toasty brown color, and more cheese bubbled underneath. It smelled amazing. I took a picture of the dish with my phone. I actually cooked something!

Grandma scooped some onto plates for us, with salad on the side.

“This is delicious,” Grandma said after she took her first bite. “You did a great job.”

It was really good. I couldn’t wait to tell Marcus.

When it got close to the time that Marcus would call, I went into Grandma’s living room, grabbed the phone, and practiced pressing the 1 button. I had my journal next to me so I could write down everything Marcus told me about his alibi witness.

When the phone rang at 3:25, I startled again. It was just like the day before. Grandma rushed into the living room with her mug of tea. I picked up the phone and there was the recorded voice again, saying it was a collect call from Marcus Johnson. I beamed, this time pressing 1 without any trouble.

“Hello?” Marcus asked.

“Hi.” I exhaled into the phone. “It’s Zoe.”

“My Little Tomato,” he said, and I could tell he was smiling again. “I’m sorry we got cut off yesterday like that.”

“That’s okay. I’m glad we get to talk again.” Then I said, “Guess what I made today?”

“What?” Marcus asked.

“Your mac and cheese recipe! Grandma and I had it for lunch. It tasted really good.”

“That’s great!” Marcus said, laughing. “I wish I could taste it.”

“Me too.”

“What else is going on?” Marcus asked.

“Well, I wanted to ask you something.” I took a deep breath. “I know you said you don’t want to talk about the past and whatever, but I want to talk to your alibi witness, and hear her side of the story. Can you tell me her name?”

“I’m sorry, but I can’t do that,” Marcus said. “I don’t want you getting involved in this.”

“If it’s true that you’re innocent, I want to know,” I said.

There was silence on the line.

“Sweetheart,” Marcus said, now sounding sad.

“No,” I said. “Please don’t say that like I’m a little kid who can’t handle things. I’m old enough to understand this. In case you forgot, I’m twelve years old.”

Marcus sighed. “You’re a smart kid, I know that. But this stuff is complicated.”

“I know that people go to jail even when they don’t deserve to,” I said. “I didn’t used to know that, but I do now. Also, I read all about the Innocence Project. Have you heard of them?”

“I have, but—”

“Maybe they can help you,” I said.

“Zoe . . .”

I didn’t want to waste any more time. I needed Marcus to let me do this. But how would I convince him to give me the name? “How am I supposed to know that you’re really innocent?” I made my voice serious. “I barely know anything about you. You could be lying to me.”

“I told you I wouldn’t lie to you,” Marcus said.

“But how do I know you aren’t lying about that?”

He breathed into the phone. “You don’t. I guess you have to decide if you trust me. I hope you do.”

“Well,” I said, “I want to know for sure if you’re innocent. If you don’t tell me who the witness is, then it must be because you made her up. Because you really did kill someone.” My voice cracked. What if he really did make the alibi witness up?

“I didn’t ki—” Marcus started to say, but then stopped. “I didn’t do it.”

“Then why aren’t you fighting harder to get out of prison?” I asked. My heart began to race. What if I couldn’t convince Marcus to give me the name? I wouldn’t be able to figure out the truth, or get the chance to ever be with him.

“So you can see me,” I added after a breath. “So you can be my dad.”

“Oh, Zoe,” Marcus said. “I love you so much, you know that? I would do anything—” His voice broke, and he paused. “I would give anything to be there with you, to be your dad.

“And I want you to know that I did fight,” Marcus continued. “I fought really hard my first few years here. I filed for an appeal and everything. But it didn’t work. The court still thinks I’m guilty. I can’t go through that again. I decided a while ago to accept my fate and try to make the best of it in here. In another thirteen years, I’ll be eligible for parole. I’m holding on to hope that I’ll get out then.”