Excerpt: Just Mercy "He's just a little boy." It was late, and I had picked up the phone after hours be- cause no one else was in the building; it was becoming a bad habit. The older woman on the other end of the line was pleading with me after offering a heartfelt description of her grandson, who had just been jailed for murder. "He's already been in the jail for two nights, and I can't get to him. I'm in Virginia, and my health is not good. Please tell me you'll do something." I hesitated before answering her. Only a handful of countries per- mitted the death penalty for children — and the United States was one of them. Many of my Alabama clients were on death row for crimes they were accused of committing when they were sixteen- or seventeen-year-old children. Many states had changed their laws to make it easier to prosecute children as adults, and my clients were get- ting younger and younger. Alabama had more juveniles sentenced to death per capita than any other state — or any other country in the world. I was determined to manage the growing demand for our services by taking on new cases only if the client was facing execution or formally condemned to death row. This woman had told me that her grandson was only fourteen. While the Supreme Court had upheld the death penalty for juveniles in a 1989 ruling, a year earlier the Court had barred the death penalty for children under the age of fifteen. Whatever perils this child faced, he was not going to be sent to death row. This lady's grandson might be facing life imprisonment without parole, but given the overwhelming number of death penalty cases on our docket, I couldn't rationalize taking on his case. As I considered how to answer this woman's plea, she started speak- ing quickly, at a whisper: "Lord, please help us. Lead this man and protect us from any choice that is not yours. Help me find the words, Lord. Tell me what to say, Lord—" I didn't want to interrupt her prayer, so I waited until she finished. "Ma'am, I can't take the case, but I will drive down to the jail and see your grandson tomorrow. I'll see what I can do. We likely won't be able to represent him, but let me find out what's going on, and perhaps we can help you find a lawyer who can assist you." "Mr. Stevenson, I'm so grateful." I was tired and already feeling overwhelmed with the cases I had. And cases with juveniles took an especially severe emotional toll on everyone who touched them. But I needed to go to a courthouse near the county where this boy was being held, so it wouldn't be that big a deal to stop by and see the child. The next morning I drove for over an hour to the county. When I got to the courthouse, I checked the clerk's file on the case and found a lengthy incident report. Because I was an attorney investigating the case on behalf of the family, the clerk let me read the file, although she wouldn't make a copy or let me take it out of the office because it involved a minor. The clerk's office was small, but it wasn't especially busy, so I sat down on an uncomfortable metal chair in a cramped corner of the room to read the statement, which mostly confirmed everything the grandmother had told me. Charlie was fourteen years old. He weighed less than 100 pounds and was just five feet tall. He didn't have any juvenile criminal history — no prior arrests, no misconduct in school, no delinquencies or prior court appearances. He was a good student who had earned several certificates for perfect attendance at his school. His mother described him as a "great kid" who always did what she asked. But Charlie had, by his own account, shot and killed a man named George.