Present day.

Regan couldn't believe it. The dumb lawyer sitting in front of him was still doing what he never thought any sane human would do after warning them – still sit in front of him, like an idiot. It was clear she was the wet-behind-the-ears kind of lawyer who had been burdened with his problems. He clenched his jaw as he remembered the danger she could be in by just sitting here. Or was he overreacting?

"You scared?"

He looked into her brown eyes, not taking offense at the very words that would have piqued him a long time ago. Now, he was wiser. All he did was look at her quietly, waiting patiently for her to carry herself out.

She placed her two hands on the table. "Mr. Walberg I asked you a question. Are you scared?"

"Why don't I ask you a question instead, why are there criminal defense attorneys? Shouldn't you all be on the good ol' side of the law taking care of the innocent?"

She gave him a small smile. "Is that sarcasm I hear in your voice?"

"Is it a crime to be?"

"No. What has the law done to offend you?"

"Are you going to answer or not?"

She sighed. "Well, it's because sometimes people are wrongly charged so it's our job to prove them innocent."

"Do you think I'm innocent?"

She had not been prepared for the question. "Excuse me?"

He didn't repeat himself. He was getting weary of this anyway.

"Well," she began when she realized he wasn't in the mood to reply. "What I just recited was what we were taught to say in law school, but in truth, I became a criminal defense attorney because," she paused and stared into space. "You might consider me racist but it is because so many blacks are charged, sometimes without cause just because of the color of our skin, so I fell on this side of the law to make sure they are innocent, until proven guilty."

If Regan had been in a different situation, he would have empathized with her and said how he didn't like the unfair way blacks were treated in the country, but he was in a worse situation, that even the blacks would pity him after he has been tried and judged, so he kept his mouth shut. She didn't.

"That's why I'm here, Mr. Walberg. I'm here to prove that you are innocent, until – "

"Until proven guilty." He laughed mirthlessly.

"No." She said stubbornly. "Until proven beyond reasonable doubt known to every specie of mankind and to every law that governs the United States of America that you are guilty."

He gave her a bored look. "Spare me the theatrics, miss."

She stood and paced the small room. "You still don't believe me? What can I do to gain your trust? To make you fight for your innocence – "

"If I am innocent."

She chuckled. "It doesn't matter if you are or not."

He was taken aback. "No?"

"No. All the law demands is evidence. A good trial. A good case. All we have to do is convince the jury," She pointed at him like she was in a classroom and was making a point worth jotting. "That's what the law is about."

She was making a point, Regan realized. He kept trying to look bored, to pretend that what she'd just said was horseshit, but damn, they were good. He was starting to think that she was a good lawyer, but decided not to jump the gun.

"What if I want to convince them that I am not innocent?"

She was visibly shocked by his statement. Okay, Regan. That was a low blow. She recovered fast.

"Why would you not want to be innocent?"

He gave her a non-committal shrug in reply.

"Either ways, Mr. Walberg, I am asking you, as a person that wants to do her job, that is there any request you would like me to get done for you – as a lawyer –" She quickly added.

Don't worry, blacks are not exactly my sexual preference, he said to himself.

"– that would change your outlook towards this case, or that would make you work up some enthusiasm to save your life from rotting away behind bars, is there?"

Had she forgotten so easily that he had just warned her of the danger there was in taking his case? Had she decided to throw caution to the wind? From where he sat he could see that her jaw was set stubbornly and her huge brown eyes were determined. She really needed to prove herself to him that bad? Fine.

He looked up at her with fierce determination. "Get me out on bail."

There was something important he needed to take care of.

~

"Get me out on bail." He said.

Oh my goodness. He did not just say that. She whipped back her hair that fell over her eyes, doing all she could to suppress a squeal of delight. This was the opportunity she had been waiting for all her life hence it was time for her to prove herself, not only to this client, but to her family, and to her boss and to every single soul that walked the grounds of this earth, and most importantly, to herself.

Getting him out on bail should be easy – or so she thinks. He had been detained when he'd been called in for questioning. They had no right to have kept him here for more than 24 hours, according to the law. Also, from what she'd studied, he had not being brought before a jury to be tried and convicted. Keeping him in a police cell was the biggest infringement of his human rights. She had other points to use to prepare the bail case to submit to Judge Connors, the presiding judge.

"It's a deal. I'll get to it right away, but first, does that hurt?" She nodded at his cuffs.

He shrugged. "I don't have a choice."

"Well, I'm gonna give you one." She walked to the metal door and yanked it wide open. She needed him to hear what she was about to say, as it might make him trust that she would deliver.

She walked up to the lanky cop at the reception. He was nodding off, spittle drooling from the corner of his mouth that favored passive transport. She banged his table and bellowed, attracting the attention of the other cops who were around, and of course making lanky cop jump up, startled.

"Can someone tell me why my client is in cuffs? I hope you know it is a huge infringement of human right according to the constitution. So, if someone does not go and un-cuff him right this moment, I swear I will hit this precinct with a staggering lawsuit for obstruction of human right and you all will be in deep, deep shit starting with being put behind bars!" She then lowered her voice and faced Lanky. "Imagine what a cop goes through behind bars. And you know how prestigious the family of my client is so better know that I am not just biting the wind."

The next instant, lanky and two other cops started heading for the interrogation room, apologizing profusely while the others hovered at the background, either curious or bothered or waiting to throw her into a body bag – it all didn't matter. All that did was the fact that she needed to take a stand if she wanted to be heard. Maybe females and blacks weren't trampled on, maybe they let themselves to be trampled on.

"Can you haul your black ass off my friggin' desk?"

Jody snapped back to focus. "Excuse me?"

"You banged your hands on my desk and started staring into freaking space," He gave her a closer look and whistled. "Sweet peas, you're as high as a giraffes coochie, ain't ya?"

She glared at him. "I need you to get my client un-cuffed. It's against human rights for him to be tied down like an animal when he's not been tried and sentenced."

He laughed. The beast had the audacity to laugh. "I dunno know who you tryna impress but you should get the facts before concluding. That's your job, no?"

"Get straight to the point." Jody said through gritted teeth.

"When he was arrested, we offered to remove his cuffs, yunno make him comfortable and all, since he's the boss's grandkid, but he refused."

Now Jody was really taken aback. "Excuse me?"

" 'Scuse yourself off my table lass." He waved her off, settling once again in his sleeping position. "And remember the chunks of luck I gave you, I double it." He grinned at her.

Jody walked slowly back to the interrogation room unsure of what to say to her client. When she got in, she didn't bother looking at him in the face. Instead, she shut the door she had so overconfidently and stupidly left open and counted to ten, still holding the handle.

"Told ya." He said suddenly and she jumped, startled.

She turned around and glowered at him, praying for patience. This was the first good case she'd been given in a very long time, she didn't want to soil it by braining her client with any available material that could inflict pain – not that the man could feel any pain; he had point-blank refused to have the handcuffs that were badly bruising his skin removed! Who does that? He should have at least told her that he'd done it of his own accord, it would've saved her the embarrassment.

She walked to the desk and placed her hand on it. "Mr. Walberg, perhaps I have not been very clear with my terms. If you really want me to help you, first with your bail, you will have to tell me everything you know, and when I mean everything, I mean, everything you know and every step you have taken. Am I clear?"

Gray eyes watched her from his unsmiling face. "Yes."

"Good." She was glad he understood that.

"And you're going to have to trust me, in any little way you can, please."

"Okay."

She sighed and sat down. She was glad they were having a chummy moment. "Do I want to know why you don't want the cuffs removed?"

He didn't reply.

"You know what? Don't bother. But please, let them be removed, it is making me feel like it's on my wrist and is cutting off my blood circulation. At least whenever we have a meeting, let your hands be free, agreed?"

He shrugged.

Great. If her boss could see her right now he would really be proud of her that this was going excellently well. He was, after all, the one that gave her the job, wasn't he?

And as she sat there looking into his cold poker face, a feeling was slowly creeping up her mind and taking root, sprouting buds in a nanosecond, protruding branches and finally bearing fruits.

The feeling that the case had been dumped on her like some kind of punishment.

~

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