The lawyer's name was Carol Brent.
Fifty something. Grey bob. Reading glasses she took on and off so frequently they should have had their own schedule.
She shook my hand and looked at me like she already knew the shape of the situation.
She probably did.
Lena brief people thoroughly.
We sat in her office for two hours.
She asked good questions.
Not about the case. Not about Nico or the trial or any of it.
About the business.
Structure. Liability. Client confidentiality. Insurance. What happened if a client's situation escalated while under my care.
I had answers for most of it.
The ones I didn't have she wrote down without judgment and said she'd come back to me by end of week.
At the end she took off her glasses and set them on the desk.
"You know what you're doing," she sai
