“Which one of you two is Esther?” Did she not notice that there wasn’t another woman in the room? I gave Evan a little nudge. Nothing. He couldn’t move. He couldn’t speak. I bet Evan had plenty to say in Con Law, Evidence, and Torts. But now, he didn’t have the nerve to tell his boss that he wasn’t a lady.

“Excuse me, ma’am, I’m Matthew,” Matthew said in a way you could tell he’d said a million times before.

“What did you call me?” she slowly turned, eyes burning in Matthew’s direction.

“Um . . . mm . . . mmmm?”

“I am not a m-a-a-m,” she slowly enunciated, so utterly offended it was as if Matthew had just called her a c-u-n-t. “I am a federal judge. I do not see an m anywhere in judge. I am Judge. Judge. Judge. It is that simple.”

Matthew stared, speechless. It was clearly the first time ma’am had gotten him into a pickle.

“Are you too stupid to comprehend that?!”—she stepped back before continuing—“Well, it turns out that you people have lost a coclerk.” Brilliant. Within a minute, she’d made Laura’s defection a reflection on us and not her. “I should have expected this. Chicago is barely a top-five school. I did her a favor.” She was pacing back and forth in front of us, like a military commander in front of the rank and file. “Not to mention the fact that I normally like the gays. But not this one.”

Did an allegedly liberal federal judge just say that out loud?

“I know the three of you will never speak of this to anyone. You will have another coclerk by day’s end. I have thousands of people who want to work for me,” she sneered, seizing bun coming to a rest. Ego restored. “But then again, you all know that. You’re here, aren’t you?” With that, she smiled, turned, and returned to her desk. We just stood there, like mute morons. “Get out! And shut the door behind you, Esther.” Evan practically sprinted out, Matthew not far behind. I followed, gently shutting the door behind me.

The whole episode lasted about three minutes. In that time, Janet and Roy hadn’t moved an inch. Were they human? At that moment, I didn’t really care. I needed to take a load off and call my parents, my friends, Puja. Never before had I been falsely accused of a crime in a court of martial law. I took a long, deep breath, sat, and reached for the phone before remembering that I wasn’t allowed to. Heartbroken, I reluctantly replaced the receiver.