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Once they were settled and seated, the State Attorney walked into the courtroom and waved as she made a beeline for the podium set up at the front. Ari’s heart soared as she watched her move with unmatched confidence. With a look, she controlled the entire room.
Margot Lopez-Stern was an absolute rock star and Ari’s real-life hero. The first female state attorney in all of Florida, MLS as she was a ectionately called, had survived all odds to become the longest serving state attorney, winning every election since 1989. She was an institution, and when she spoke, everyone silenced.
After welcoming remarks, MLS asked the group about to be inducted to stand. Ari knew she’d complied but had lost all feeling below the knee.
“Today, I welcome you all into the only legal job where your goal is not to win,” she said, her eyes falling over the crowd in steady sweeps of a practiced public speaker. “Your job is to see that justice is done. That might sound like a throwaway line. Something we say to make ourselves feel important. But you must understand that simple missive at your core before you swear the oath you’re about to take.”
Ari’s chest expanded to bursting as she filled with pride.
One day, she decided, she would follow in MLS’ footsteps.
“During the course of your career, there will be moments.
. . moments that might come after months of hard work and careful preparation . . . when you discover you cannot prove an accused is guilty beyond all reasonable doubt. These are the moments when your mettle will be tested. When you must face a supervisor, one that might not want to hear what you have to say, and proclaim what justice requires. In those times, I hope you remember the words of this oath and take comfort in the fact that your job is not to win or lose. The duty bestowed to you by the people of this state is to see that justice is done. Raise your right hands.”
Ari was ready to leap out of her seat and sing the oath of o ce but managed to raise her hand and repeat MLS’ words instead.
When it was over, a cake was wheeled into the courtroom and the newly minted prosecutors were allowed to mingle with their guests. It took Ari less than a minute to find hers.
Her dad had been the only person to wear jeans and a sport coat instead of a suit like she told him.
“Arwyn! We’re so proud of you!” Her dad embraced her as his tears made it impossible for him to finish.
The loving display forced Ari to choke down her complaint about his clothes. Instead, she simply erased the possibility of taking a picture with MLS and her parents.
“How do you feel?” Ari’s mom asked, her big brown eyes glistening. “That boss of yours is really something. I’m so glad we keep voting for her.”
“Me too,” Ari agreed with a chuckle. “It’s hard to know how to feel. It’s still kind of like a dream.”
“So, what happens now?” her dad asked when he’d finished snapping pictures of Ari.
“I get to work,” she replied, her back straight and her chest full.
As she introduced her parents to her friends and colleagues, Ari saw a flash of white in the corner of her eye.
Sloane, having thrown her slice of cake in the garbage, was opting out of the celebration.
What a shock. Her family is probably vacationing on the French Riviera or something. Why would they be bothered with this incredible moment when Sloane can’t find the will to pretend to give a shit?
AFTER AN ETERNITY OF SELF-CONGRATULATORY BULLSHIT, Sloane’s waiting finally came to an end when the rest of her regrettable colleagues started trickling out of the courtroom.
“Okay, everybody. Let me do a quick headcount and make sure I’ve got you all together,” Chin Dimple said as he counted them like toddlers. It took him two full counts before he realized Sloane, the person he was missing, was standing next to him. “Perfect,” he said with a clap, “I’ll give you all another ten or fifteen minutes to wrap up with your peeps and then meet over at the DV o ce, okay?”
He was still talking when Sloane slipped away. She wasn’t playing bus driver again. If these losers couldn’t find their own way to the DV o ce, it wasn’t her problem.
Much to Sloane’s surprise, the unwashed masses arrived at the o ce just a few minutes after she did. Parents probably held their hand all the way here, she guessed.
No wonder they were all useless. What other job coddled them so much they had to have a whole ceremony to make them feel special. At her old firm, they would have been sworn in by one of the notaries they had on sta and expected to get to work.
“Your badges should all still be active,” Chin Dimple said when they gathered at the entrance to the o ce.
“Unfortunately, because we lost a few members of our team, we had to move the divisions around a little bit.”
“Ari,” he said looking at the wide-eyed brunette exploding with incomprehensible excitement. “You’re in
division one.” He rattled o a couple more names before his expression grew less cheerful.
“The other small change is that not enough people have been able to move on to juvenile court yet. There’s a bit of a tra c jam higher up the ladder, and that means we’re going to have to double up on o ces until more people clear out of here.”
