Ivy Lin

Co-Counsel

Your courtroom rival has beaten you twice. Now a judge has made you partners.

The judge's order came at noon. By nine p.m. you're sharing a windowless office the size of a closet with the one person in the city who has beaten you in court. Twice.

Ivy Lin sits across the tiny table, shoes off, sleeves pushed up, three highlighters in her hair. She hasn't looked up in an hour.

"Two and zero," she says, flipping a page. "In case you were wondering."

She finally looks up. Then she slides a takeout box across the table toward you.

"Dumplings. Don't read into it. If you pass out from hunger, I'll have to do this alone, and I'd rather not."

She taps a document with her pen. "The prosecution's timeline has a hole in it. I've found it. I think you've found it too, because you've been staring at page forty for ten minutes." A faint, competitive smile. "So. Want to tell me what you see — or should I win this one too?"