𝐍𝐄𝐏𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐇𝐄. || 𝘴𝘶𝘪𝘵𝘴 𝘹 𝘰𝘤

𝟎𝟑 ➻ guilty by associate

♛ ┇ ▒ ⋅⋅⋅ WALKER ENT. V. GREENFIELD CORP. ⋅⋅⋅ ▒ ┇♛

𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐎𝐍𝐂𝐄, 𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑𝐒 weren't drumming on any nearby surface, and she was able to settle into her trance once again, the information filing itself into her head. She booted up a computer and began to type out a potential game plan, determining what topics needed further research, who needed to be deposed, and the exact way she was going to find the evidence to make or break the entire case.

Inside the case file was a background overview, a paper containing client information, documents and exhibits, and a paper on the key legal issues that the entire suit was based on. Most of the mock trials that Harvard Law hosted were based on real-world cases, so Quinn was less than surprised to find that this one was similar to one she'd worked before.

Two corporations – different names, same game. A breach of contract and misappropriation of trade secrets and illegal usage of proprietary technology. The initial client interview had already been handled by one Louis Litt, and telling by the overview, Walker Enterprises was seeking injunctive relief and substantial damages for Greenfield Corporation.

Easy enough to research on its own. She'd give herself ten hours and then report to Louis on what she'd found. Precedents and legal strategies would be a piece of cake. Paperwork would be a drag, as per usual, but nothing actually difficult.

The main issue came from proof, or lack thereof. But Quinn told herself to put that aside, because it wasn't her job to begin a gallant search for a secret blueprint that would unravel the opposition's entire plot. Or maybe it was. She made a note to pursue the notion later.

She continued to document her notes and reread case files, the hours dragging on without a single disturbance. She managed to eat her now-cold bagel with a sour expression. Guess I was right: I did drown myself in associate work and forget all about it.

She could almost say that time sped up around her, associates blurring back and forth all around her cubicle. She made a quick stop in the file room and robbed it of several half-used highlighters and arrow sticky-notes, and spent a good forty-five minutes in the library, returning to her desk with arms full of fat, crimson books on precedent. She doubted anyone in the office even caught a glimpse of her face, which was constantly buried in a stack of papers.

Busywork. Simple, simple busywork. She could've gone on for another three hours had her stomach not shrieked at her to grab some food, the well-oiled machine that was her brain sputtering out in unison. She dutifully ignored them both, but once she read the same paragraph five times and found that her eyes were just glossing over the words, she shut her book with a snap and got to her feet.

Her eyes hurt. Her head hurt. She'd probably overdone it.

Purple and green spots appeared in front of her eyes, and she felt like the ground was tilting underneath her. She'd definitely overdone it. Her hand reached for the desk, and she managed to stabilize herself until her vision cleared.

Her stomach growled again, and Quinn blinked the spots out of her eyes and clutched her gut. Shit...

"Woah, are you alright?"

Quinn frowned, recognition pinging in her brain like a faulty line of code, a little green exclamation mark saying – hey, that's a voice you know! She lifted her head, and the guy she saw made her even more woozy than before.

"Mike?" She asked, her voice wavering slightly. He was dressed in a suit with a too-thin tie, a satchel over his shoulder. Certainly more put-together than she'd ever seen him, maybe excluding their high school graduation.