The Wolff

By Mary Hallberg

Victim...or villain?

Ten years ago, a teenage Gideon Wolff was sentenced to life in prison for the brutal murder of his young neighbor, Jack Dabrowski. Many people believe he was wrongfully convicted.

Hailey Callahan is one of those people. She’s the same age as Gideon and grew up in similar circumstances — on the proverbial wrong side of the tracks that she believes caused police to use Gideon as a scapegoat. She’s been fighting for a decade to get him out of prison and find the real killer.

When Gideon’s released on parole, Hailey thinks it’s a victory. But it’s not long after he gets out that people start dying in similar manners as little Jack did all those years ago. Hailey is finally forced to confront the truth she’s been hiding from, and the details of the case that don’t paint Gideon in the best light. The little white lies he tells everyone, including her. His behavioral problems leading up to the murder. And the wolf pendants left behind at every crime scene — just like the one found near Jack’s body. Is Hailey just paranoid? Or was Gideon a wolf in sheep’s clothing all along?

The Wolff is a thrilling novella that fans of the ‘guilty or innocent’ trope will enjoy.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Mary Hallberg
• Release date: Apr 11, 2022
• ISBN: 9781005604332

Mary Hallberg

As a child, Mary Hallberg’s mother wanted her to read HEIDI and CADDIE WOODLAWN, so she grew up reading Goosebumps books under the covers. As soon as she was old enough for a Blockbuster card, she graduated to horror classics like Halloween, A Nightmare on Elm Street, and The Evil Dead. Her parents still wonder where they went wrong in raising her. She lives in Mississippi.

Book preview

Op-ed: Gideon Wolff is innocent

Casey Manning

The Daily Star

December 16, 2011

This past week, 18-year-old Gideon Wolff was sentenced to life in prison. He won't be eligible for parole until 2021, all for a crime for which there's very little evidence he committed.

Gideon was convicted of killing his 10-year-old neighbor, Jack Dabrowski. Despite also attending church together, the two rarely interacted and, by all accounts, were never in any sort of conflict. The prosecution insisted Gideon was a psychopath with a thirst for blood. Yet multiple psychological evaluations have shown no evidence of mental illness.

On the subject of evidence — or lack thereof — there was almost none of it found at the scene. No DNA, no hairs, nothing — just some stupid pendant. The only thing even remotely related to Gideon was a copy of Of Mice and Men, which his English class was studying at the time. The prosecution treated this like a smoking gun, definitive proof that Gideon was there. Never mind the fact that there were twenty-seven other people in that class — and it’s not like Of Mice and Men is some obscure indie book. There are literally dozens, if not hundreds of people it could belong to.

And what about Jack’s father? Ludlow Dabrowski was barely in his son's life, and his ex-wife — Jack’s mother — has always claimed he was abusive. He also took out a $20,000 insurance policy on Jack just a few weeks before he died — a policy he cashed in on just days after the murder. Um, excuse me? An insurance policy on a 10-year-old boy? Nobody’s going to talk about that?

So why the focus on Gideon, a boy himself, and one who hardly even knew Jack? The prosecution laid heavy into his past, his multiple school suspensions over the years as well as arrests for (and additional accusations of) theft. But being a thief or getting into fights at school doesn’t make you a murderer. Neither does being lower class, something also often pointed out by the prosecution — as if that matters at all! 

Gideon Wolff wasn’t convicted of murder because he’s a cold blooded psychopath. He was convicted because this case was a difficult one that police felt tons of pressure to solve, and they needed a scapegoat. They played on people’s baseless classism and other prejudices to do it, and they’re the ones that need to be investigated.

Addressed to: Gideon Wolff

East Central Correctional Facility

Atlanta, Georgia

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Dear Gideon,

My name is Hailey Callahan. I’m writing to you because I think you’re innocent.

I saw the channel 4 documentary about you a few weeks ago and…wow! It seems like you really got screwed over. I can’t believe the prosecution said you were a psychopath when a medical expert said you had no mental illnesses. I guess people don’t think of psychopathy as a mental illness.

I grew up like you, without a lot of money, so I know how those things go. Plenty of my classmates in high school got the book thrown at them for minor things, just because of baseless prejudice.

I also read the op-ed about you that Casey Manning wrote a couple weeks back. I've gotten in touch with her and were starting a defense fund for you. I’m starting my sophomore year of college in the fall, but I’ll try to contribute to it when I’m done paying for things like textbooks. (Also, we’re the same age! Well, I think I’m a little older. I just turned 19.)

Anyway, one last thing and I’ll stop bugging you. I didn’t have a major last year and, honestly, I had no idea what I was going to do with my life. After I heard your story, I declared a pre-law major. One day I’m going to be a lawyer and, if Casey and I haven’t gotten you out of jail by that point, hopefully I’ll be able to do it then.

---

Hope to hear from you soon,

Hailey

CHAPTER ONE

It’s been ten years since Gideon Wolff was convicted of the brutal murderer of little Jack Dabrowski — a victim who, some say, never got justice.

From the start, prosecutors have faced harsh criticism for what many view as a botched case. Now, after a decade behind bars, Gideon has finally been granted parole — a victory, some of his supporters say. Others believe they have a long way to go and won’t stop until his name is officially cleared. For Channel 4 news I’m Casey Manning, signing off.

---

I Face Time Casey as soon as she gets off the air. Probably not the smartest decision, since there may be a delay or she might not be able to get to her phone, especially when she's supposed to be working. But what's done is done — and anyway, she picks up on the first ring.

Hi Hailey! she says. Hope you’re on your way. The press conference starts in an hour and there’s almost no parking here.

Headed out in a second. Great job on that story, by the way.

She groans. Ugh, thanks. It’s so hard to hold back when I talk about Gideon. I just want to scream at the camera ‘he’s innocent!’ But no, I have to stay neutral. As if everyone doesn’t know what I really think.

I chuckle. Well, you have amazing restraint.

She shakes her head. Thanks. I try. Hey, is Donovan coming?

No, he got caught up at the office. He’s gonna try and come over later to help Gideon move his things in.

Casey rolls her eyes. She doesn’t say anything, but I know what she must be thinking.

Well I guess I should get going, I say. Save me a spot?

Of course! You’re the guest of honor. She pauses. Well, besides Gideon, of course. See you in a few minutes.

---

It’s usually a twenty minute drive to the courthouse, but I expect it to take longer because of traffic. Not only is it the weekend, but it’s a big day for our small town; it’s not every day we have a celebrity move in.

Gideon grew up in Atlanta, but decided to move to the suburbs after he was paroled. He hasn’t talked much to his parents or stepmom (well, former stepmom) since he went to prison. So he said moving out here would be a fresh start, but also not too far away from where he grew up.

After Casey and I teamed up, we found plenty of fellow Gideon supporters to join our group. Between all of us, we were able to garner enough attention to start a fund for him that's gotten quite a few donations over the years. It was partially for his defense, but after he exhausted all of his appeals we kept raising money so he could get on his feet if he ever got out of jail. I had no idea it was going to take this long, at least not when we first started. Finishing pre-law changed my outlook a bit, but I stayed optimistic. I’ve even temporarily forfeited law school, putting as much money as I could into the fund. My parents weren’t too thrilled, but it’s finally paid off. After ten years and multiple petitions and letters to the governor, Gideon is finally being released. Well, just on parole, but that’s better than nothing.

I reach the courthouse in about the time I’d estimated, but parking is predictably tough. The only spaces I can find are in between giant trucks, and backing out afterwards would be a nightmare. Finally, I find a spot way out in a second parking lot. It’s attached to another, smaller building, but there are no signs indicating that I can’t park here. If worst comes to worst, maybe Donovan can pull some strings for me.

The press conference should have already started as I huff my way up to the steps and make my way through the crowd. Fortunately, whoever’s in charge of these things is running late. I manage to find Casey at the front, and the conference starts about twenty minutes later when Gideon walks out.

He’s dressed sharply, in a tan suit over a striped polo shirt. His hair, normally unkempt in prison interviews, is combed back. He adjusts his jacket as he steps up to the podium, looking surprisingly poised for someone who has only worn an orange jumpsuit for her past ten years. He clears his threat and begins.

Hello everyone. Welcome, and thanks for being here. I’d like to give a special thank you to Drew Platt and Jenna Bluss, the best legal defense team anyone could ask for. They’ve worked tirelessly for the past ten years trying to help me, and I hope they know how truly grateful I am. I also have to thank the Justice for Gideon group, led by my friends Casey Manning and Hailey Callahan. These two had never met me when they decided to go out of their way to form this group and start up a defense fund for me — one that will make this transition a whole lot easier. I’m told hundreds of people have contributed to it, along with writing letters and signing petitions, and I can’t begin to thank you all enough for your support. Instead, I’ve decided to pay it forward.

He pauses. The only noise is the clicking sounds of photographs being taken. All the cameramens’ eyes are on him.

He takes a deep breath. "I’m going to do what the police department didn’t do do back in 2011. I’m going to look into the case again. And I won’t stop until I find out who