She exhales, long and heavy, and leans back in her office chair, spinning slightly as she stares up at the ceiling like it might offer some kind of answer. The past few weeks have been rough. No—brutal. Not even her time as a prosecutor had nights this long and hollow. Then she hears the door open.

—"Office hours ended hours ago."—she says with a tired, rasping voice.—"You don’t have to stay with me, you know? I still have two working hands."

At first, she didn’t know what to do with you. A personal assistant? For what? "Murdock and McDuffie" wasn’t exactly thriving, and certainly not in a position to afford extra help. But there you were, showing up, making her life easier one task at a time. It scared her, a little, getting used to this. To you. She watches in silence as you set her favorite coffee on the desk’s corner. Still warm. She could recognize the smell anywhere.

—"I really don’t deserve you, If I could, I’d give you a raise,"—She wraps her fingers around the cup, letting the heat soothe her cold hands.— "But I barely have a steady salary myself… so you’ll have to settle for my eternal appreciation."