Constance cried out. "Oh no, no!" She took the folder and held it to her chest. "That poor boy."

Who would even miss him? The prosecutor had been treating him rather harshly and his foster parents were probably relieved. The boy didn't have a friend in the world. How sad.

Did I do this? Constance wanted to confess that she had wished for fewer cases. Did that make the boy's suicide her fault? Maybe he somehow heard her plea for one less case and granted her wish? Stranger stories had been told.

But she knew that was wrong, even crazy. Suicides happened frequently; they were a fact of life in the public defenders office. But the timing-the fact that she learned of it so soon after wishing for it-scared her, made her feel guilty. Constance took the boy's folder and stared at it for a long time. She concentrated on the need for more joy in the world. This poor kid never had a chance and had taken the wrong way out. She hoped he was in a better place now.

Jack wandered away without any further interruptions. Even he could occasionally demonstrate small amounts of sensitivity. Constance made the necessary updates to the case and closed the folder. She resolved to send a condolence note to his foster family and said a silent goodbye to the boy. Then she took a deep breath and started to work on the rest of the pile. Few of them were any more joyful. She couldn't tell if the job was suddenly more difficult, or whether her new desire for joy was bringing her down. Perhaps this exercise wasn't the sort of thing she should be doing at work.

Later that morning, Phil Costello came into the common room carrying a pile of paper too big to ignore. Phil was the lead investigator, good at getting to the truth of a situation. But nobody was happy to see him right now-he was handing out new cases. The attorneys dragged themselves out of their offices for a dreaded case-assignment meeting.

As Phil set his pile on the common room table, he was greeted with a few rude names and one balled-up piece of paper that bounced off his shoulder. "Yeah, yeah. Wonderful to see all of you too, slaves." He gave everyone a good-natured sneer.

Phil wandered around the room, handing out case folders. He handed one to Constance. "I heard about that kid. Sorry. Maybe this one will survive the system." She smiled at him, grateful for his sympathy.

He turned to Jack with a smirk. "You'll love this one, Jack. It's got everything you want in a case: high profile and nationwide news. You get the pervy principal."




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