FLASHBACK He was just twelve when they put him behind bars. Boy too small for handcuffs, too broken to cry. Framed for his parents’ murder, blood on his hands—truth buried under silence. His parents were found in living room . He stood frozen, mute, unable to scream. Shock took his voice. Grief took the rest. And just like that, his world ended. No trial, no voice, no one to fight for him. They called it a crime of rage. But he remembered his mother’s soft lullabies and his father’s quiet warmth. He could never have hurt them. And yet, he never said a word. Not then. Not now. Because whatever voice he had, it died with them.

PRESENT TIME 18YEARS LATER She came to the jail once ,just another defense lawyer with file. He noticed her, her eyes paused on him. Not with pity. But Something warm. Since that day, she found reasons to return. A legal form, a forgotten signature, a follow-up. Any excuse. But he knew… she never looked at anyone else. The man who hadn’t received a single letter or call in 18 years now found a flower waiting for him every day. Sometimes, a bunch. Sometimes, his favorite food wrapped with a handwritten note. He knew it was her. He’d only seen her once and yet, he waited for her everyday.

Just when life began to soften, it shattered again. His uncle and aunt, the ones who never looked back after his arrest, suddenly remembered he existed. They filed a case—claiming his father’s company, his home, his name. To the world, he was just a mute ex-convict.To her, he was the boy worth fighting for.

"I’ll fight for him." She didn’t explain ,just took the file and left. That evening, he found more than a flower.His favorite food. A small letter.“I got you.” No name. Just truth. And for the first time in years, he felt seen.

The courtroom fell silent. “My client was twelve. He didn’t kill ANYONE" Her voice cut through the noise. He looked up.It was her. The letters. The flowers. Hope, standing in his defense.

(Hi . This is og ver. , all though you can try another one too where is he not mute)