They had gathered for a staff meeting. Once they settled back into their places, Scott said, "So, what do we have on the docket next week?"

"I hope it's a patent case," Carlos said. "I love patent cases."

"Something really boring," Karen said.

"Amen," Louis said.

"Oh, well ..." Bobby said.

At four-thirty, Cat Pea sat in her cubicle at FBI headquarters. Her cell phone rang; she knew who it was without looking, but she looked anyway: Scott. She started to answer, but froze. Her thumb hovered over the phone for three more rings, then she set the phone down. It was over.

Scott started to leave a message but decided against it. He hung up the phone and removed his glasses. He knew it was over. He would live his life alone. He would never again have a wife. He had been given a lifetime appointment to the federal bench and to a life lived alone. To a lifetime of letting people down.

At five, Scott sat in the stands in the Highland Park Middle School gymnasium with one daughter while his other daughter waited to be introduced with the starting lineup. He held Boo's hand. He might never let it go. The public address system crackled to life. The announcer introduced the team with great enthusiasm.

"Now, introducing your Highland Park Middle School Raiders. At five feet seven, starting at center, number two, Madison Richley!"

The crowd applauded politely.

"At five feet three, starting at forward, number eight, Emily Hunt!"

More polite applause.

"At five feet four, starting at forward, number thirty-three, Abigail Jacobson!"

Less polite applause.

"At five feet two, starting at guard, number sixteen, Claire Wexler!"

Barely enough applause to be polite.

"And now, at five feet five, starting at point guard, number twenty-three, our very own American hero, Pajamae Jones-Fenney!"

The crowd exploded from their seats. Thunderous applause filled the gym. Scott and Boo glanced around then stood among other white people standing and applauding a black girl. His girl. Her sister. Pajamae stood on the court and cried. Her teammates hugged her and cried. The principal hugged her and cried. Boo cried. Scott cried. A tall bald black man in a sharp suit walked onto the court holding a basketball with one hand. He looked familiar. He went to Pajamae and held the basketball and a pen out to her. Pajamae stared at the man and looked as if she might faint. She signed the basketball and gave it back to him. He held it high in the air. The applause grew louder. And Scott recognized the man: Michael Jordan.

Pajamae Jones-Fenney would never again be ignored off the court.

"We're very sad," Boo said.

Pajamae nodded. They were tucked into bed. Scott had told them about his immigration ruling, its effect on Cat's parents, and her reaction.

"We understand," Boo said. "You did your job as a judge. But it still hurts."

"It does."

But he had his girls home. They were no longer innocent. Their innocence had been taken when they were taken. They would never be the same. Neither would he.

"We'll never leave you, A. Scott."

"Yes, you will. You will and you must. One day you will leave for college. One day you will live your life with a man you love. You will marry and have children. I want you to. I want you to be happy. Because I love you."

"But you'll be alone."

"That's my life, Boo. The day I married your mother, I made it my life to be alone. I will never be free of her, even if she's not with me. I took a vow. Till death do us part."

Hector Calderon had not heard back from Jose and Gilberto. He knew their fate. The Arabs had killed them, and the Americans had killed the Arabs. Life involved so much death.

And there would be more death.

He lay in bed holding his woman. They had just had sex. Never had he enjoyed sex so much. Never had he enjoyed a woman so much. Never had he had such a beautiful woman in his life. Never had he killed a woman in his bed.

"I am very sorry, Rebecca."

"For what, Hector?"

"For this."

He pushed the dagger through her skin and under her ribcage and deep into her heart. Her body clenched and then relaxed. She accepted her fate. We all must accept our fate. It broke his heart to kill her. But she knew too much.

"Hold me, Hector."

"Of course."

Rebecca Fenney felt life leaving her. She was thirty-seven years old and still remarkably beautiful. She had sold her beauty for a Highland Park mansion then a Galveston beach house and finally this Cancun villa. She sold her beauty to men, men who gave her the life she wanted. Now this man would take her life.

She knew this day would come.

She had ruined one man's life and taken another's. Sooner or later, life would turn on her. Life would take its revenge. Life would have its way with Rebecca Fenney. Today was that day.

So she did not fight death. She accepted death just as she had lived life. With no guilt. She had left Scott for Trey and killed Trey when he threatened to leave her; she was innocent on both counts. But she would be punished just the same. Life had its own justice system. Life had given her a death sentence. It was her destiny from the day she won her first beauty pageant. When she learned what men would do to hold her beauty in their arms. She always knew her life would end this way. In the arms of a man and at the hands of a man.

By the same author.

The Color of Law.

The Abduction.

The Perk.

The Common Lawyer.

Accused.

The Governor's Wife.

Con Law.

The Case Against William.

Parts & Labor: The Adventures of Max Dugan.

(a novel for middle-grade children).