Keating was lecturing on trust. "The question I'm asked most often as a defense attorney is whether I can tell if my clients are innocent or guilty. And my answer is always the same. I don't care. And it's not because I'm heartless, although that's up for debate, but because my clients, like all of us here in this room, lie. And that makes them unknowable. Take Ms. Bennett, here. Are you really who you say you are, or are there other sordid details that we're missing?" She smirked as she elaborated, "Criminal record, divorce, an actual skeleton in your closet?"

Kate smirked and leaned back. "I have secrets. Everyone does. But you'd never figure them out," the Brit said, smug.

Keating maintained her smirk, though curious. She turned back to the group. "So you say. Look around you. At the quiet girl you share notes with," Wes glanced at Kate who smirked to herself, "the cute guy you have a crush on, the gunner who talks too much in class, and ask yourselves, do you know who anyone really is? Your instincts better be good, or you'll find yourself choosing the wrong people to make a study group with, to sleep with, or even marry." Keating pressed her clicker and the tiny screen showed the picture of a woman. "Just ask Marjorie St. Vincent, heir to her family's billion-dollar department-store fortune until she was stabbed 16 times-" she clicked through pictures of the murder scene "-in the master bedroom of her Gladwyne Mansion. The alleged killer... Her husband, of course. Max St. Vincent."

They went to Max's mansion where they met the man himself.

"I met Marjorie in Paris," he explained as Max lead them through his home. "I was shopping for my daughter Eloise's fourth birthday. My wife had just passed. I needed something," he clicked his tongue, "special. When Marjorie saw me struggling to speak to the owner in French, well, from the minute she opened her mouth to translate, I knew this was the woman for me. And 20 years later, she's still the only woman who knew how to make me happy." They came to a stop and - after a pause - he turned to face them. "Well, as much as anybody can be happy in an institution as barbaric as a marriage. Don't you agree, Ms. Keating?"

"Let's keep it moving," Annalise deflected.

Max opened the door to reveal a blood splattered bedroom.

"I asked Max to preserve the crime scene until after the trial was over. You never know what forensic clues you'll find to help our case later."

"And the room needed some color, anyway," Max joked. He was a sociopath, Kate recognized then wrote down. She wrote everything she noticed in the room.

"Look around, take photos, be the fresh eyes we need to help this case," Annalise ordered.

Asher took a few pictures with his fancy, rich boy tablet.

Without looking at her notebook, Kate wrote everything the saw, the blood splatter, the mirror, the deer and elk heads, the sheets, and she put on a glove to open the nightstand.

"Is it time?" Max asked.

Upon seeing it cleared out, Kate closed it again.

"I think it is," Annalise replied.

Kate pulled the glove from her hand, stuffing it in the front pocket of her shoulder bag. She placed the notebook in as well, sensing a plot twist.

Max clapped. "I need a volunteer. Ladies?" he prompted, holding out his hands.

When neither of the other girls stepped forward, Kate slid her shoulder bag off her shoulder and placed it against the night stand. She stepped closer to the accused murderer.

Max took her hand. "Very well." He guided her closer to the bed and turned her to face him. "Now... On the bed." He gave a gentle shove which sent her onto the sheets. "The forensic report claims that Marjorie was in bed reading when I joined her with, uh" He looked in his empty hand and looked around. "... ah! Your pen, dear. Pen." Laurel gave him her pen which he demonstrated with. "The knife, which I hid, like this." He put it behind his back. He put a hand on the side of her face. "Then I pretended-" he hiked his leg over hers "-to initiate sexual relations." He leaned in close to her.

"Mr. St. Vincent, I regret to inform you, you're not my type," the British girl informed him.

"Ah! A Englishwoman! Anyway, just as we were about to kiss... I struck." He brought the pen forward and 'plunged' it into her shoulder.

Kate could hear the students gasping.

"But missed, hitting the carotid artery, which was now squirting like a loose fire hose," he gestured to the walls, "hence the walls, so then I struck again, number two." He used the pen to hit her in the sternum. "Hit here." He moved to straddle her. "Followed by number three, here. Number four, five, six, seven." He stopped counting and just kept stabbing. All the while, Kate kept a bored look on her face. Eventually, he delivered the final blow and said, "16." He sighed, staying where he was.

"Or you killed her because she stopped sleeping with you and you have some weird thing about fidelity. Because that," she gestured to him, "with the exertion and the panting and now you're winded... was not attractive." Kate pushed him to the side to get him off her.

Max laughed as he landed beside her. "Sheesh!" he exclaimed at the amount of effort that took.

"Or so that's the prosecution's theory," Keating interjected.

Theory?" Max laughed. "Good luck proving that, huh?"

Frank set down a crap load of binders. "The murder book, given to us by the prosecution with all the evidence they've gathered in Max's case. Go through it. Find the holes to help get our guy a "not guilty."," he ordered.

Once they had all dispersed, Annalise called, "Mr. Gibbons, my office... now." They both went into her office.

"What do we think is going on there?" Connor asked, picking up his binder.

"What do you mean?" Asher asked, walking over to his choice of spot on the couch.

"We all earned our spot here, right? But wait list?" Connor asked, sitting as well.

Laurel closed her eyes. "Don't call him that," she insisted.

"Maybe he's her secret baby, like she gave him up for adoption and he doesn't even know," Asher wondered.

"Because all black people are related?" Michaela challenged.

"What? No. I-I wasn't..." Asher badly attempted to defend himself.

"So, Asher, could Michaela and I be twins?" Kate asked, leaning over to Michaela. Michaela got right beside her too. They tilted their head the same way too.

"No! You look nothing alike."

"I'm glad we established that," the Brit ground out.

Connor redirected the conversation back to his topic of choice, "My point is, something is going on. Otherwise, why would he be here?" Connor sat down.

"Why are any of you here? That's the question I'm still asking myself," Bonnie said, popping up out of nowhere.

Kate leaned back. "I'm here because arguing is all I'm good at. Plus, I've had a lot of run-ins with the bobbies - that's the police for you dunderheads who don't know - so I wanted to know my rights. Then, I started wanting to understand them, then I was giving my meager amount of legal advice to my friends and family, and now I'm trying to defend others. Plus, the pay's great. I mean, have you seen this house?" she asked, turning in the wheel-y chair. Her phone - flip, if you can believe it, started ringing and she jumped up, pulling it from her pocket which it was clipped around. "Buongiorno!" Kate greeted.

"Is that Italian?" Connor whispered.

Kate waved him off. "Mi chiamo Kate. Lavoro per un avvocato americano e ho motivo di credere che il nostro nuovo cliente abbia vissuto in Svizzera. Hai fatto un'autopsia a sua moglie." She had an Italian accent when she said the name, "Elizabeth Zims. Sì. Potresti inviarlo al nostro fax?" She walked over to the fax machine where she looked at the tag. "Uno - sette uno sette - quattro nove otto - tre sei quaranta sette." After a few seconds with the woman on the other end talking, Kate continued with a perfect accent, "Grazie mille. Potresti essere chiamato a testimoniare. Sarò lì! Arrivederci e grazie ancora." She closed her flip phone and tapped her finger on the fax machine.

"What do you got?" Annalise demanded. When had she re-entered the room?

"Oh, Max killed his first wife in Switzerland, but got acquitted. So I got in contact with the woman who did the autopsy on Elizabeth Sims and she's sending us - well, you - the report. There are a lot of inconsistencies." The fax machine lit up and Kate pressed the print button. "And Bonnie!" the once again British accented girl called. She turned around to see the blonde looking at her. "That's also why I'm here." She raised her eyebrows. "I kick arse." But Brits pronounced their 'r's as 'ah's so it sounded like ass with an 'ah'.

The Keating 6 minus Wesley were at the Keating home, researching and watching the news report on the Stangard case. "Breaking news on the Lila Stangard murder here. Police just released the medical examiner's ruling that Ms. Stangard's death was indeed a homicide. This comes a week after she was discovered deceased in a water tank at her sorority house, Kappa Kappa Theta."

"Want to know the best part about that? 'Cause corpses crap themselves. So the sorority girls were all drinking their friend's poop."

When everyone else groaned, Kate asked, "How is that the best part?"

Asher was about to answer when Wes walked in. "Hey, is Professor Keating in?"

"Shh," Michaela hushed, drawn to the TV.

Wes eventually turned to it as well and was drawn in.

"No suspects have been announced, but we do know police spent the morning interviewing her boyfriend, Griffin O'Reilly, a star of the Middleton football team," the lady reported.

Annalise walked back into the "outer office". "Mr. Gibbons. Did you do what I asked?" she asked.

"Uh, yes," Wes answered, meeting her half way.

The rest of them were absorbed in the report and most didn't really care about Wesley.

"Dorsey. Jake Dorsey," the officer introduced himself.

"Really? So you're not officer Chad Mullens?" Annalise asked, looking at the report she had.

"Your honor, I'm not sure what Ms. Keating is insinuating here..." the prosecutor interjected.

"I'm not insinuating anything. I'm just reading from the supplemental arrest report, which says that officer Mullens found the hunting knife, not our witness here." She picked it up and carried the report to the witness. "Or am I misreading the name, officer Dorsey?" She set it down in front of him.

The officer picked up and turned around the paper. "Uh... no. Says officer Mullens," he replied. He set it back onto the table.

"An officer who I recently found out is under investigation for drinking on the job, which explains why your boss might want to keep his name off of the official arrest report, maybe even changing his name for yours." Annalise walked back to her table, taking the report with her.

"Your honor, can we take a recess?" the Prosecutor requested.

"After we get the knife thrown out, we attack the motive. Any thoughts?" Annalise asked, back at her house.

Laurel held up her pen. "I had one."

"Prosecution's going to use Marjorie's best friend to say that she wanted to divorce Max, which would have eliminated his inheritance per the prenup and thereby giving him motive to kill," Michaela cut Laurel off. "I looked into discrediting the friend, but I couldn't find anything just yet."

"Perhaps if you let Laurel speak, there could be a solution at the table, not another problem," the Britt hissed at Michaela.

"I can discredit the friend. Why don't I help?" Connor asked, glancing at Michaela.

Annalise stood in court, doing a cross on the best friend, using information Connor had given her. "Mrs. Taylor. You claim that your best friend Marjorie spoke to you about divorcing Max nearly a year ago."

"Yes."

"Even though you wrote the following toast at their anniversary party about two months ago." She walked over to her table and read the speech: ""I haven't seen two people more in love since the Captain and Maria performed their first dance in front of the Von trapp children." Doesn't sound like a couple about to divorce to me," she cast doubt.

"How in the hell do you find this crap?" Michaela asked Connor, leaning over slightly.

"You'll never know," Connor gloated.

Back at Annalise's house, said woman declared, "The alibi's next. Max claims he was out for a walk when the murder occurred, so we need a neighbor who saw him. Frank... Take who you need."

Frank pointed at Michaela and Asher. "You: prom queen, douche-face, with me."

"It was around 8:30 when I took out the trash that night," the neighbor testified. "Right after our nightly family dinner."

"And what did you see while you were outside?" Miss Keating asked.

"A man walking on the other side of the street," the neighbor explained.

"And did you recognize the man?"

"Well, it was very dark that night, but I think it's very possible that it was my neighbor, Mr. St. Vincent."

Outside the courtroom, Annalise declared swiftly, "The prosecution has rested, so the first witness to take the stand will be the medical examiner from Switzerland. I need someone to write up the prep questions."

Laurel, it seemed, was desperate to not be overlooked once again. She pushed to the front of the group. "I'll do it."

Annalise looked her up and down swiftly. "Frank's girl. Good. Have them on my desk by midnight. I'll meet you back at the house." And she swept from the room leaving only the sound of her heels.

"You've been hunting for approximately how many years, Mr. St. Vincent?" Miss Keating asked.

"Oh, practically my whole life," Max responded.

"So, you're experienced at slaughtering animals, then?" Annalise asked, walking back in the direction of her table.

"Yes, it's one of the first things my father taught me... How to be humane, to minimize suffering."

"And there are ways to ensure that?"

"Oh, yes. I could show you right now, if you like," Max offered.

"Please." Annalise gestured for Bonnie to go over to him.

The blonde pixie walked over in front of the stand. Max cleared his throat.

Max sat forward, tilting Bonnie's head. "First, you bend the neck like this so the chin is close to the chest. Then you put the knife here..." he used his finger as the knife.

"Ms. Keating. Please explain the relevance of this," the judge cut him off.

"It'll become apparent, your honor," Miss Keating promised.

The Judge sighed, turning to Max. "Continue."

"Once the knife is by the jugular, you slice..." he moved his hand to show the slicing, but it was slow so Kate couldn't understand why some people gasped. "In one swift motion, and then, well, it just becomes about waiting for the stillness," he sat back, allowing Bonnie to return to her seat, "which happens quite fast if you've done it correctly."

"And this technique... This very humane, painless way of killing an animal... Is that how you murdered your first wife?" Annalise didn't move as she asked the question.

There was even a tiny bit of amusement on his face as he stated, "Yes, that's correct."

Everyone in the seating area started talking except for the students. Kate showed no reaction to any of this.

The prosecutor and DA were called to approach the judge.

"How many years have you been a medical examiner, Ms. Stave?" Annalise asked the Swiss woman.

"13 years," Ms. Stave replied.

"And you've studied the autopsy reports of both Elizabeth sims and Marjorie St. Vincent."

"Yes."

"Can you describe the difference between the two murders?" Annalise requested.

"Well, at first blush, they look quite similar. But a more in-depth review of the reports indicates that the first murder, a laceration across the neck, was done by someone with a knowledge of anatomy. And the second murder? The numerous sharp injuries were messy, inaccurate. They hit bone. The killer clearly knew nothing about anatomy."

"Meaning the second killer probably did not have hunting experience."

"Definitely not. In fact, it is my expert opinion that there's no way that these two women were killed by the same person."

"The defense rests," Annalise stated before walking back to her table.

Annalise walked down the hall in the court house with Wes and she came to just outside their court room. "Laurel-" Said girl stood "-Speak up more. I like your ideas. And watch out for Mr. Gibbons. Miss Castillo, and Miss Bennett here. Quiet ones are usually the most dangerous." Once she was done, she walked back inside.

"What the hell just happened?" Michaela asked, following their professor.

They reentered the court room and everyone stood as the paper was handed to the bailiff then the judge.

"Have you reached a verdict?" the judge asked, putting on his glasses.

"We have, your honor. In the matter of commonwealth vs. St. Vincent, case number P1082971, we, the jury, find the defendant, Maxwell St. Vincent... Not guilty," the head juror declared.

The group left the room, DAs first, then Vincent, then the students.

"You got away with murder, you pig!" one man yelled, charging at Max.

The students had to fight to get to the front. A police officer held open the elevator doors as the students ran for a quick escape.

"Okay, I don't like this part," Michaela complained as she stepped into the elevator.

"Oh, come on, Michaela. They're saying our class' name."

"What?" Michaela asked.

Kate smirked over her shoulder. "They think we got away with murder!" She caught the smirking Annalise's eye and winked. "Not that hard considering Eloise did it."

"What?" Michaela repeated.

"I imagine you'll be saying that often in my presence."

"How long have you known?"

Kate shrugged. The bell rang and the doors opened. "Since I found out he had a daughter. And that he was a widower." She left the elevator. "And, of course, talking to the ME was helpful." Her heels clicked as she stuck to the walls of the court house to get to her car.

"Ok, you didn't flinch in that court room," Michaela began her interrogation once they were back at Annalise's house. They had to pack everything up, now.

"Your observation skills are astute as always, Michaela," the British girl sniped.

"How come?"

"My uncle is a hunter. I'm used to gore and I enjoy deer jerky." She placed a pile of files in a cardboard box.

"Rich people's hobbies," Connor commented.

"We're not rich. We simply know how we'd like to spend our lives. We're aware of how short life is and we enjoy what we've got." Kate rolled her shoulders in a shrug. She walked toward the basement where they kept all the solved case files. She walked past Bonnie's desk in the process. She had only reached the middle of the pile.

She picked up another file and saw the note on the file below it. 'Congrats!' it read. 'These files have been completed.' Bonnie pulled up the post-it. 'Feel free to double check!' She pulled up that one too and it had a phone number on it. 'Text only, please...' Then it had a winky face drawn on.

This all happened in a few seconds and by the time Bonnie looked up, Kate was walking back up the stairs from the basement.