(Connie's POV)
I spend the next few days doing what I do best, which is aggressively reorganizing my entire professional life around a personal decision I made at two in the morning without consulting a single billable hour of forethought.
Two motions go to Priya — my junior associate, not the six-year-old robot enthusiast, though I'll admit the name overlap amuses me more than it should. She's sharp enough to handle both without supervision, which I tell her directly, because I believe in saying the true thing out loud to people who've earned it instead of hoarding compliments like they cost me something.
I clear my calendar in a series of increasingly curt emails. I tell the partners it's a family matter, which isn't technically a lie — Jack's not blood, but I've decided blood is an o
