I was starting to get comfortable with my new life, while at the same time never forgetting that at any moment I might be forced to run to avoid being locked up again in the tiny coffin of a cell in solitary. Still, working at a law firm came with some unexpected benefits. The firm occupied five floors near the top in the posh fifty-story skyscraper known as the Cash Register building because the top of the building was curved like a cash register. After hours, I’d log on to the Westlaw account and read law books in the law library, researching how to get out of the scrape I had gotten myself into.