Ten years had passed.

She stood in the living room, dressed neatly in a black blazer, a file held firmly in her hand. There was no longer any hesitation in her posture—only a quiet composure shaped by time.

In front of her, Leonard sat upright as always, his presence as commanding as ever.

He lifted his gaze and spoke in a low, steady voice.

“For ten years, you have chosen that path… and it seems you have no intention of leaving it.”

She gave no response.

Leonard rose slowly, his steps measured.

“I will speak plainly,” he continued. “From the very beginning, I have never approved of your decision to become a lawyer.”

He stopped a few steps away from her.

“In my view, it is not a profession that upholds honor.” His gaze remained firm. “You stand to defend those who have lost their standing in society, and you call it duty.”

The air grew heavier.

“That is not something I can take pride in,” he said calmly. “In my eyes… it is a lowly profession.”

Silence.

She remained still, offering no reply.

Leonard watched her for a moment, then exhaled quietly.

“And yet, ten years have passed,” he said at last. “And you remain.”

There was no raised voice, no uncontrolled emotion.

Only a firm, unwavering rejection.

And before him, she stood just as steady—silent, composed, and unshaken.