"Then you're already a step ahead of -- well, most inmates, probably," she laughs. Herself included, when she had been one, but she knows that this isn't about her, and that just telling stories of things that seem relevant isn't going to actually push him to make more progress. She's going to have to listen.

And that includes trying to read between the lines. "That jacket isn't working for you," she says. "I thought it might, but it's all wrong. You need something a little more ..." With a grin and a flourish, she pulls a garishly sequined jacket off the wall, one that gleams silver and gold when it catches the light.

It doesn't suit him at all and she knows it, but she still grins up at him as though it's a very serious, very real suggestion that she's terribly proud of.