Stop it, Juniper. You’re doing it again.

Analyzing every interaction like it’s evidence in a case.

Mom was right though - I do gravitate toward what I know.

Amanda would have called this “classic Juni” - always trying to organize chaos into neat little boxes.

And maybe, just maybe, that’s exactly what you want…

The morning sun struggled through heavy snow clouds, its light diffused a pearlescent sheen as it filtered through the law library’s soaring windows. The accumulated snow from yesterday’s storm had transformed the city into something almost alien from this elevation - all sharp angles softened, every surface draped in white. The usual golden morning glow was replaced by a cooler, bluer light that seemed to alter the very atmosphere of the space, turning the ancient leather volumes and polished oak shelves strange and new.

Juniper stood between the towering stacks, their brass-edged shelves reaching toward the vaulted ceiling like silent spires. The weight of the sword she carried felt heavier today, each file adding to the burden. The pretrial conference loomed ahead, every deadline a testament to the trust placed in her. Those affected deserve better than my distracted mind, she thought, forcing her attention back to the task at hand.