T he first letter he sent was three pages long and penned in elegantly looped handwriting. It consisted of the usual formalities one expects when getting to know someone via written communication: a brief first glimpse into his life, an account of his daily routines and a list of some of his favourite hobbies. Yet entwined within our amicable introductions were two sentences that stood out starkly from the rest.

“If it wasn’t for this place, I would be dead. Death row saved my life.”