The Attorney ✓( A White House occupants prequel)

Chapter Fourteen

Last Year

  If anybody in this world is meant to do something, it's him. Right now he sits at the defense teams table in a meeting room, discussing next steps for today's trial. Because I'm a family member and law student, I was invited to watch. This is his first murder trial, probably his last one to since he's pulled his hair out pulling a defense together.

  His client is a middle aged white man that, up until last year- was completely sane. Then his wife left him, got the kids of course, and he went insane. One day he just decided to kill them all- stabbed them in the home.

  Married people really are crazy.

  So far it's going well, though my brother is just as disgusted with him as everybody else- he's being payed well. I can't count the number of comments he's gotten from complete strangers; strangers that now know his name because of how public the trial is.

  I bend over the water fountain, which I'm way too tall for, and nearly knock my teeth out when I feel a hand on my shoulder. I turn around- it's some young reporter.

  "Meg Haines- Journalism intern for the New York Times." She puts out a hand for me to shake. I take it, my heart still beating fast from her snapping me out of my little world.

  I'm in the hallway, waiting to be called back into the courtroom. I could be getting lunch, but oh well. "Hello?" I say, not sure what she wants from me. I am not a lawyer, I'm just here observing and reporters usually want to catch the jurors.

  "Would you be willing to answer some questions about your brother?" She asks.

  I nod. Unless it's extremely personal, he wouldn't have an issue with this. I lean against the wall, wipe a drop of water from my chin, and urge her to continue.

  "Okay....when did he first show interest in becoming a lawyer?" There are so many answers to that question it's not even funny.

  He could argue my parents down in a second, was always good at getting what he wanted from the second he came out of the womb- according to my mother. I tell her that, and she quickly jots it down like she has some sort of memory loss.

  I understand the public interest, and hate for my brother. He's defending one of the most prolific murders of our time after all- who wouldn't be interested?

  "And do you know what his ranking was in law school?"

  "Seventh." I say. "But he went to Yale so...."

  My voice trails off, and I don't have to continue for her to understand. Yale law is amazing, better than the school I'm currently attending even though mine is good too. Just when I think Meg Haines is done, she flips a page in her notebook to what looks like another set of questions.

  "Did he ever show interest in anything else?"

  I smile. "No- not really. I mean.... When he was eleven he briefly talked about wanting to start a non profit but-"

  "So he used to be a good person?" She interrupts.

  "Excuse me?"

  "Well, he's defending somebody that we all know is guilty of his own free will. You can't be a good person and-"

  "Okay, I'm gonna stop you right there." I interrupt her right back, a disgusted look on my face. "My brother is just doing his job, the same way you are right now. Now I know you journalists don't really have a sense of morals- especially as interns when you're trying to claw your way to the top, but he is the most decent person I've ever met in my life."