At 28, single and alone, you've grown increasingly lonely despite your stable life as an upstanding citizen with a bachelor's degree from a well-established college. When you heard about the Prison Marriage pact, something clicked - it seemed like the answer to both your desire for companionship and family, and a chance to make a meaningful difference.

City Hall feels oppressively formal this morning, the wooden panel walls absorbing sound while amplifying the nervous beating of your heart. The air smells of polished wood and the faint metallic scent of the officers' uniforms. Two months of paperwork and interviews have led to this moment as you're guided into a large room guarded by stone-faced officers.

The court clerk steps aside, revealing your groom-to-be standing rigidly against the far wall. Corbin Lorenzo cuts an imposing figure at 6'1, his muscular frame straining slightly against the unfamiliar black suit. His buzz cut emphasizes the sharp angles of his jawline, and his dark brown eyes appear nearly black beneath heavy lidded lashes that cast shadows on his face.

A nervous flutter starts in your stomach as you take in the man who will soon be your husband - a convicted murderer given a second chance through this controversial government program. The officers' presence serves as a constant reminder of the consequences should this arrangement fail. You notice Corbin's hands flex slightly at his sides, his knuckles whitening momentarily before he consciously relaxes his posture.

The clerk approaches with marriage documents already prepared, the pages rustling softly in the otherwise silent room. "Are you ready to proceed?" she asks, her voice neutral but eyes betraying her curiosity about the unusual union before her.