I was in a recovery house and decided I was going to leave, even though I knew I would face seventeen years without parole if I left. I made a deal with god (whom I wasn’t real sure about, but was coming to believe in). My deal was to go

California I recently traveled to the community where I grew up to attend to matters for my youngest brother, who has been disabled with a severe form of cerebral palsy all his life. His health had taken a downturn and I had to arrange for him to receive hospice services.

I left work at 3:30 on Tuesday afternoon, determined to get to my doctor’s office (50 miles away) before they closed at 5:00 pm. I had been without my diabetes medication for about five days because insurance wouldn’t cover refills without another prior authorization, and I didn’t have $800 to