“Prosecutor General is also in a bind.”Those words left me no choice but to be taken aback. I stopped speaking and looked at her; the assistant prosecutor gave a knowing nod as if to say “see?” and then opened her mouth.“All the other prosecutors would love nothing more than to hold the trial and expose the defendants’ crimes in full detail. But with our budget issues and the mountain of cases piling up, we have to clear them as quickly as possible. Plea negotiations are an unavoidable choice and a long-standing practice. People are saying, ‘Are you looking to boost your own popularity by dragging this case out to trial?’ And besides, you’re so good-looking that everyone would go wild for it.”“Well, that is…” I began.“Exactly!”She slammed her hand on the desk once, and I flinched at the sharp crack. She continued, her tone fierce.“Take this opportunity and go to the networking event. No more excuses about not being good at that sort of thing—at least try.”Before I could speak, she hurriedly added,“Isn’t it galling to you, too? The trial is right around the corner, yet they want to push it into a plea bargain? If you support the Prosecutor General now, and then rise through the ranks later, you could stop cases like this from being plea-bargained away.”Her words made me hesitate. Noticing my wavering for the first time, she nodded with conviction.“Think about it—by avoiding trial and cutting a ridiculous deal, we could spare the victims and their families of further anguish.”Of course, being Prosecutor General isn’t a position where you can pull every string at will. Public opinion matters, there are constraints on prosecutors, and if he loses an election, none of it counts. In fact, right now, as a junior prosecutor, I might be freer: no worries about campaigns or big responsibilities.…but then again.All of that freedom exists only because the Prosecutor General has my back. He’s been remarkably fair and pragmatic, with an almost idealistic streak. Without his support, I’d never have gotten this far. In the worst case, they could always swap me out for another prosecutor to steer this toward a plea.Given that, I couldn’t entirely dismiss the assistant prosecutor’s words as nonsense. To gain the freedom to pursue a fair trial, I might paradoxically have to give up the freedom I have now as a junior prosecutor. Frustrating as it was, when had I ever gotten what I wanted without paying a price?“…All right, I’ll do it.”“Good decision!”Before my words had even fully left my mouth, she clasped her hands together like in prayer and cheered loudly. Embarrassed by her enthusiasm, I feigned a cough ⊛ Nоvеlιght ⊛ (Read the full story) and spoke up.“I’ll think about it. If that’s all, then…”At my words she froze for a moment, then let her shoulders slump in feigned disappointment—before regaining her energy.“Great. You’ll need to clear your schedule for the weekend, so you’d better hustle through your work today. I know you can do it.”I was about to say, ‘It’s not confirmed yet,’ when she cut me off abruptly.“Trust me—you won’t regret it.”With that, the assistant prosecutor strode out without waiting for another word. Left alone, I sat in thought for a moment, then sipped the coffee she’d brought, pushed aside a stack of documents, and lit a cigarette.My mind was too tangled to focus on work. In the end, I left the office thirty minutes earlier than usual. I bought two books to read over the weekend and headed home. Just as I was closing the front door, my cell phone rang. Seeing the caller ID, I paused, then reluctantly answered.“Yes, Mother. How are you?”My voice was as calm as ever. I set my bag down on a chair and spoke, and on the other end, my mother replied.“Oh, Chrissy. I’m fine. How about you? Are you very busy? I worry you might be overdoing it.”In her usual gentle tone, I answered evenly.“I’m managing, so don’t worry. Is something the matter?”“Do there have to be errands for me to call you?”She reproached me with a hint of hurt. I quickly defended myself.“No, nothing like that. I just thought I’d check in.”“All right, it’s not bad news, anyway.”She spoke kindly, then got to her point.“I have some business this weekend on your side of town, and I was planning to go with your father. I’d like to see you, too. How about we have a meal together?”I paused mid-motion as I drew books from my bag.“…With Father?”At my careful question, my mother laughed.“Of course. The pastor introduced him to a great supplier over there. Lumber prices have gone up so much, you know? But this place is said to be five percent cheaper. He wanted to check the quality himself, so I decided to go along. Of course, what do I know about that…”I tuned out her continuing words and seized the silence to ask.“So while Father inspects the supplier, you want to meet me?”Please, please.I chewed at my thumbnail desperately, and then my mother’s voice came again.“No, we’ll do some shopping until he’s done, then we’ll go see you together. He misses you so much.”It would have been better if she’d left that last bit unsaid. My stomach lurched violently. I clenched the hand not holding the phone over my mouth to stifle the nausea.“Chrissy? Chrissy?”My mother called my name repeatedly. I took a deep breath and fought the waves of nausea.“I’m sorry, but I have plans this weekend. It won’t be possible.”“Plans? On the weekend?”Her puzzled reaction swiftly turned sharp. Before she could say something foolish, I jumped in.“I’ve been invited to the Prosecutor General’s party. It’s not hosted by him directly, but I’ve already promised to attend.”“Prosecutor General’s?”She sounded distinctly disappointed—not by news of me having a boyfriend, but by this. Then she spoke pointedly.“Inviting subordinates on their days off—how thoughtless. You’re already struggling with work; why should you have to see your boss on the weekend? Chrissy, you need to learn to say no sometimes. Just because he’s your superior doesn’t mean he has a right to your personal life.”Of course, Mother. I know. I’m not a seven-year-old anymore.I masked my pained expression behind a practiced, gentle voice.“Don’t worry, Mother. It’s a gesture meant for me. There will be many important people there—I’m supposed to introduce myself in advance.”“My, is that so?”

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