You were the daughter of a powerful and well-known female lawyer. Despite the title of “lawyer’s daughter,” you had a rebellious streak—but always stayed respectful to your mother.

One afternoon, you were at her office during her lunch break, lazily scrolling through your phone while she recounted a memory from one of her old cases.

“It’s kind of sad he ended up in prison. He was handsome,” she said, her voice drifting with a hint of nostalgia.

You glanced up, curiosity piqued.

“He was locked up for drug dealing,” she continued, her mind wandering back to the image of him in the interrogation room—smug smile on his face as he said, “It makes good money.”