Before Jay could react, P.O. Wheeler stepped out of the vehicle, his jaw tight. "Jasper, stay where you are. You’re being detained,” Wheeler said, his voice hard as he gestured for Jay to show his hands. Jay lifted them slowly—then bolted the split second Wheeler was distracted.

  Jay’s shoes kicked up gravel as he cut the corner. He ditched his backpack into the overgrowth without slowing, vaulted a fence, and didn’t look back. Behind him, Wheeler’s voice rose, his voice crisp and authoritative over the police radio, "Dispatch, this is P.O. Wheeler. I have a juvenile fleeing in violation of probation. I need immediate backup."

  Without missing a beat, he continued, "Suspect is Jasper Zurich, black hoodie, jeans. Known to carry weapons. Dumped a bag near Maple; running north on Oak. Over."

  Jay’s breath tore out of him in ragged gasps. His heart hammered as he ducked into an alley, searching for anywhere to disappear. But his path to freedom was abruptly cut off by the growl of an engine and the screech of tires. A police cruiser swerved to block his exit, its headlights exposing his frantic silhouette. He whipped around to backtrack, but Wheeler had already closed the gap from behind.

  "Put your hands where I can see them, Jasper!" Wheeler commanded. There was an undeniable note of disappointment in his voice that cut through the alley's silence. Jay hesitated, his thoughts scattered until he slowly, reluctantly raised his hands in surrender. He knew he was screwed.

  "Damnit, Jasper. You're making things harder on yourself than they need to be," Wheeler stated, gesturing for Jay to turn around. Jay nodded, feigning compliance as he clasped his hands behind his back. Then, in an almost thoughtless impulse, his hand lurched for his waistband where his gun was concealed.

  Instantly, three officers sprang into action and swarmed him. The collective weight of their bodies and the force of the law bore down on him until any remaining fight was snuffed out. A dull thud resonated as a fist made contact, and Jay’s world went black.

  He drifted in and out of consciousness in the ambulance. After a brief evaluation at the hospital, he was processed into the juvenile detention center downtown. Since his mother couldn’t afford bail, the gray walls of a cell became his only view until his sentencing hearing.

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  A week later, Jay stood in a courtroom that hummed with the whispers of onlookers. The rows of benches were filled with a mix of the curious and the professional, all waiting for the gavel to fall. The judge’s bench loomed at the front, flanked by national and state flags. As the clock ticked, the judge returned from recess and called the court to order.

  Bang! Bang! The gavel fell as the courtroom session resumed. After considering the evidence and Jay's extensive record, the judge looked down at him.

  "Mr. Zurich. Given the severity of your actions and that you will soon be eighteen, the court is certifying you to be tried as an adult. These charges include but are not limited to: Assault of a Law Enforcement Officer, Resisting and Evading Arrest, Unlawful Possession of a Firearm by a Minor, and Multiple Counts of Possession and Distribution of a Controlled Substance."

  The judge paused, his expression stern. “These offenses indicate a pattern of criminal behavior that threatens the safety and well-being of our community. This sentence serves to hold you accountable, to safeguard the community, and to deter others from similar conduct.

  Based on these considerations and applicable sentencing guidelines, you are hereby sentenced to ten years in the state prison, with possibility of parole in six years."

  Jay's gaze remained fixed on the floor as the judge's words sunk in. Anger and bitterness swirled in his gut, leaving him feeling completely disconnected from the room. But as his gaze slowly lifted, he caught a sight that pierced through his numbness. In the gallery, weeping behind a veil of hair, was Christy. Her eyes, welled with sorrow, met his, and for a moment, time stood still as she silently mouthed three words with a weight he was not prepared for: "I am pregnant."

  The gentle touch on her belly emphasized the stark reality of her message. Tears streamed from her eyes, carving clean lines through her overly applied foundation. His chest tightened. Everything felt too loud, too bright, while the courtroom buzzed around him.

  Out of the corner of his eye, he saw his mother sitting stoic in the audience, shocked perhaps. The officers gripped his arms to escort him toward the back door and ultimately to the correctional facility where he would spend the next many years. As he was led away, Jay did not look back.

  The cold bars of the adult prison cell were a harsh reality check for Jay. He was now just another number in the system, stripped of his identity. Ten years. The judge’s voice and Christy’s face looped in his mind like a broken film strip.

  As Jay sat down in his cell, the heavy steel door slammed shut, echoing through the block.

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