Novel-novel oleh Violet Pierce

October. Rodriguez oral arguments day.Four of four. Torres. Chen. Martinez. Rodriguez.Four cases. Four arguments. Four chances to prove myself.Today was number four.I was ready. Completely ready.Arguments memorized. Questions anticipated. Evidence mastered.At work, I was in control.At home, everything was falling apart.But today wasn't about home. Today was about Elena Rodriguez.About fighting. About winning. About justice.The rest could wait.---The courtroom was smaller than Torres. Less press. Less fanfare.But Elena was there. Nervous. Hopeful. Trusting."Are you ready?" I asked."Are you?""I'm ready. We have a strong case. Excellent facts. Clear timeline.""They're going to argue I was underperforming.""And we're going to show the timeline. Excellent reviews until pregnancy announcement. Then suddenly 'underperforming.' The pattern speaks for itself."She nodded. Still nervous. But trusting."You've got this," she said."We've got this."---The judges entered. Three

September. Rodriguez oral arguments in three weeks.Four months until fellowship match results.Four months until everything changed. Or ended.I was preparing. For arguments. For whatever came next.But mostly, I was surviving.---Marcus left for his first interview. Boston. Three days."I'll call every night," he said. "To talk to Evie.""Okay.""Are you okay with this?"Was I? No. But what choice did I have?"I'm fine. Go. Do well. Good luck."He kissed Evie goodbye. She clung to him."Dada! Don't go!""Dada has to work, baby girl. But I'll call you. Every night.""Promise?""Promise."He looked at me. Guilty. Apologetic. Conflicted.I looked away.He left.And I was alone. With Evie. With uncertainty. With everything.---Those three days were hard.Work. Evie. Bedtime. Repeat.No Marcus. No backup. No help.

August. Rodriguez brief due in two weeks.I was prepared. Focused. Ready.One case. Thirty hours this week. Quality work.The brief was strong. Arguments solid. Evidence compelling.I'd win this. I knew I'd win this.At work, I was certain. Confident. In control.At home? Everything was uncertain.---Marcus got the fourth interview invitation.Los Angeles. Late September.Still no local program."LA wants me," he said one evening."That's four interviews. That's good.""It is. But no local interview yet.""When do they usually send invitations?""Now. Through September. If I don't hear soon...""Then they're not interested.""Yeah."We sat in silence.Four programs. None local. All far.Boston. Chicago. Seattle. Los Angeles.All requiring us to move. Uproot everything. Start over."What if none of them are local?" I asked.

July. One month into the waiting.Six months until fellowship match results.Six months of not knowing. Of uncertainty. Of tension.Marcus and I didn't fight. We just... existed.Parallel lives. Same house. Different worlds.Him: preparing for interviews. Studying. Researching programs.Me: working. Parenting. Holding the line.Evie: oblivious. Happy. Growing.The only one of us actually thriving.---Rodriguez case was progressing well.Discovery complete. Brief due in August.Manageable timeline. Thirty-five hours. Sustainable.The other case settled. As predicted.One case slot open. I didn't fill it.One active case. Twenty-eight hours last week.Under my limit. Intentionally.Walter noticed. "You're working less than thirty-five hours.""One case right now. Rodriguez. It doesn't require more.""You could take another case. Fill the time.""

June. Fellowship application season.Marcus was compiling materials. Personal statements. Letters of recommendation. CV.Applying to ten programs. Trauma surgery fellowships across the country.Boston. Philadelphia. Chicago. Los Angeles. Seattle.And one local program. Here. Where we lived.Where Evie knew. Where our support system existed.Where I desperately hoped he'd match.---"What are your top choices?" I asked one evening."Honestly? The best program. Wherever that is.""Even if it's across the country?""The fellowship is two years. We could make it work.""Could we? You working ninety hours. Me solo parenting. No family nearby. No Maria.""We'd find a new nanny. A new support system.""In a strange city? Starting from scratch? With a toddler?""People do it all the time.""That doesn't mean we should."He looked at me. Frustrated. "What do you want me to d

May. One month of holding the line.Two cases. Thirty-five hours. Home by 6:30.Every day. Consistently.It was working. Actually working.Not perfectly. But sustainably.The difference mattered.---Evie was seventeen months old now.Talking in full sentences. Expressing complex thoughts."Mama, I want the blue cup. Not the red cup. Blue cup."Specific. Opinionated. Stubborn."Okay, blue cup it is.""Thank you, mama."Manners. She was learning manners.From Maria, probably. But also from me.Because I was there. Evenings. Mornings. Weekends.Present. Consistently present.---Martinez decision came back mid-May.I was at my desk when the email arrived."Martinez v. TechCorp - Decision."I opened it. Held my breath."The Court finds in favor of Appellant Sarah Martinez..."Three for three.Torres. Chen. Martinez. All