“This isn’t cavalier, Kimmy,” he says, reading over the letter. “This is total confidence in you and your brilliant mind.”
He just stares at me. And I stare back.
“Well, are you going to tell me or what?” I ask, verging on hysterical.
“You passed,” he says, calm as can be, as if he never had a single doubt. And I guess he really didn’t.
I’m floating on air. I can hardly believe it, but at the same time I think, of course I passed. I don’t mean to be cocky, but I was made for this shit.The job Leo arranged for me starts soon after I receive my results, and I won’t lie, juggling my classes and new workload from the pro bono clinic is not easy. As much as I want to jump right in and work on my brother and father’s cases, I have to pay my dues first. And I’m thankful for that, because court is rough. I was not expecting lawyers to be so brutal. There’s a reason they have such bad reputations. The only thing that gives me strength sometimes is seeing Leo sitting in the courtroom with the other observers. He never misses a case. Whenever I’m stressed or feel as though I’m backed into a corner, I just find him in the crowd. His encouraging smile gives me the strength I need to move on. After all my cases we go to a diner and discuss what I did right and what I can do better. He challenges me, pushes me, makes me be a better lawyer.
It’s been a particularly stressful day. My client today was a man accused of assault against his neighbor. The neighbor had cuts and bruises all over his face. There wasn’t much I could work with because the supposed victim’s wife was there as a witness. Luckily for me, I canvassed the neighborhood and found a neighbor whose security camera captured the night in question. My client was sitting on his own porch that evening; never even went over to the accuser’s house. It turned out the “victim” made the whole thing up after being attacked by his mistress, and his wife just lied for him to help his case, hoping to cash in later in a civil suit. It’s my first big win.
Leo is waiting for me outside the courtroom after the jury comes back with the non-guilty verdict, and the judge awards my client one hundred thousand dollars for damages. Which means this just went from a pro-bono case to an actual payday.
I see Leo in the hall and fight the cackling laughter bubbling up inside me.
Leo laughs. “Let it out, pretty girl. You know you want to.” I run into his arms and start laughing hysterically. He spins me around. “I told you that you could do it. You need to have as much faith in yourself as I have in you.”
He sets me on the ground and holds my face in his hands, and gives me a gentle (public appropriate) kiss.
“I couldn’t have done it without you. You were the one who suggested I talk to all the neighbors and do the footwork. Not every answer can be found with my nose in the law books.”
“No, it’s all you. You think like a lawyer. And you’re the reason that man isn’t going to jail for assault and you’re the reason he’s getting compensated for his pain and suffering. It’s all you. And you did it without the backing of a big fancy law firm or having co-council. I think you’re ready to help your father and brother get the justice they deserve.”
His words instantly give me heart palpitations. The thought of trying to take on my father and brother’s case is terrifying. What if I fail them? What if they spend the rest of their sentence behind bars? That’s still another ten years! The pressure is too much.
“I know what you’re thinking,” Leo says as if reading my mind. “But I believe in you.”
I nod. All I need is his faith in me. With him by my side, I can do anything.6Two years laterJustice isn’t always swift, but if you work hard, and never give up, you have a fighting chance in any courtroom. And I fought my ass off for six months working on my brother and dad’s case. After a few more victories at the law clinic, and a few more settlements that brought some money to the struggling non-profit, they agreed to provide me with a senior lawyer as a mentor and legal secretary to help with my family’s case.
At Leo’s insistence, I started from scratch. Forget everything you think you know about what happened that night and read all the facts with fresh eyes, he instructed me. I turned our dining room into my mission control center. The walls had photos and post-its everywhere. I reinterviewed my dad and brother. Reviewed security footage. Scrutinized the eyewitness’s life from birth. When our appeal was rejected the first time, I took a week to cry in a bed. But then I got up, regrouped, and pursued other routes. For every success there was an obstacle thrown in my way, until one day I got a call from the prosecutor. He wanted to make a deal. He knew I wasn’t going away, and he offered to release my dad and brother with time served.