I really shouldn't have been surprised that Annalise had listened to me, considering she did much of the time, simply because we thought so much alike. But I was shocked. I was shocked that she'd actually gone to speak to Olivia Pope, and had actually been able to sit her down in the hotel room to speak with her. I couldn't believe she was in D.C. at this very moment with her, and I couldn't believe we were leaving to D.C. soon.

But, then again, everyone else was shocked that I knew her.

"So...how exactly are you on a first name basis with Olivia Pope?" Connor asked as he cradled Poppy in his arms.

I looked up at him, away from my almost packed suitcase, and gave him a heavy sigh. "My dad had friends in D.C. growing up. He worked in the government, and he worked closely with Olivia for many years. We had her over at our home for dinner a few times, actually. Sometimes Olivia would watch me at night, if Paton was gone, and my dad was out, too."

"Did she know?" Connor asked quietly, quite obviously referring to my abuse.

I pursed my lips, and shook my head. "No...not until he went to jail." I sat next to my suitcase, my eyes shutting tightly at the memory.

I was so young when I put him away, so young when I had testified. The rage in his eyes when the bailiffs pulled him away wouldn't leave my nightmares for years after. I remember when Paton was dragged off by my dads lawyer to speak to him. I was so small, sitting in that court room all on my own, my pink dress with the white lace halter was itchy, and restricted my breathing. At least that's how it felt, but maybe it was the anxiety of the situation.

That's when I saw her white silk pants in front of me. Her black heels perpendicular to my black bow toed shoes. I looked up, immediately recognizing the intimidating stance. But when I saw her face, she wasn't staring down at me in a way I felt intimidated. I recognized, though, the look of pity I would receive for years and years later. Maybe forever.

"I'm sorry, sweetie." She took a seat next to me. "You're a very intelligent girl. I know you don't want me to say that, but I am. I didn't recognize what was happening, and I should have. You're a strong young woman, Leorah King."

I felt tears sting my eyes for the what felt like the millionth time that day.

"I need you to know that if you ever need me, for anything, I'm always here. You can always call me." She said. "For anything, Leorah."

My lower lip quivered. "Thank you."

She nodded at me, and clicked off. That would be the last time I saw Olivia Pope in person for many years.

"Baby, you okay?"

I looked over at Connor, and nodded. "I'm fine." With a shaky breath, I put the last shirt into the case and began zipping it up. "I'm just fine, Con."

"I'm proud of you." He kissed me softly. "You're amazing, Leo."

"I'm sorry." I said lightly. "I realize that you were kind of, more passionate about this than I ever was. I feel like I stole it from you."

"Baby, we were in it together. Don't worry about it. I'm happy that you were able to help so many people. I'm still going with you, we're going together. It's okay." He chuckled. "C'mon. We need to sleep before tomorrow, okay? We've got a long journey ahead of us."

I smiled and nodded. "Okay."

I was here. In D.C. with Olivia Pope and all of her people. Our encounter had been an awkward one.

The moment she saw me, she grinned widely. "Leorah King."

My eyebrows had lifted high. "Olivia Pope."

Her heels clicked familiarly toward me and grabbed me for a hug. "How are you?"

"I'm amazing." I said, smiling. "I'm doing amazing."

She pulled away, squeezing my shoulders. "I'm so glad. I've read many impressive things about you. You've grown up since that day in the court room. But you're still strong. That hasn't changed."

I blushed lightly. "Um, this is my fiancè." I pointed to Connor. "And our daughter, Poppy Jane."

The rest of it was introduction, and work. So. Much. Work.

This time specifically, Olivia had asked me to go with Marcus to look into the going ons of one of the Justices, who apparently was hearing things from the opposing lawyer on this case.

I was currently highlighting some paperwork.

"Leorah, this is a stakeout. Two sets of eyes are better than one, you know?"

I looked up from the papers. "Our opposing counsel isn't stupid enough to have a supreme court justice meet her in her house in the middle of the day."

"Are you calling my plan stupid?" He scoffed.

I sighed. "No. Sorry. I'm just...stressed out."

"I can imagine. This is a big case, and you're right under it."

With a sigh, I studied the man delivering the pizza. "I really am."

I truly couldn't believe I was in the supreme court hall, where our case would be heard before justices. A case we had worked so hard on. A case that would finally come to an end, today.

When I spotted Connor along with everyone else, holding Poppy, I grinned, and ran to give him a kiss. "Guys, this is Marcus Walker, former pr-"

"press secretary. No introductions needed, I know you. It's great to meet you, sir." Asher let out his hand, and Marcus shook it.

I pressed a kiss to Poppy's head as i heard the rest of the group chattering behind us. "How was she last night?"

"She was fine. Don't worry so much." He said softly, kissing my forehead and pulling me into him. "We're gonna do great. Don't be so tense."

"You're talking to me, Connor." I chuckled.

"Right." He laughed. "I guess that was stupid."

That's when I looked up, and my eyes widened. "Marcus..."

"What?" He asked.

I nodded over to the sight I was seeing. "It's the pizza guy. At Strickland's house, from yesterday. He's working with Ingrid..."

Marcus looked at me, then we looked at each other.

"Shit." I mumbled, and we took off running toward the office we last saw Annalise and Olivia go into. Marcus texted Olivia quickly, and she exited.

We explained everything.

"You never said you saw a pizza guy." Olivia scoffed.

"What do you think was in the box?" I asked nervously.

"Strickland's prep questions. He's a hard-line conservative. He wants to help Ingrid in any way he can." Olivia responded.

"So, Annalise is screwed." I stated.

Olivia shook her head. "I'm Olivia Pope, Leorah. I'm fighting this. I'll be back." Then, she walked off.

"I...need to find Annalise." I said. "I need to warn her or something...something..."

"I don't know if that's-"

I cut Marcus off. "Shut up. Annalise is my business, not yours. I have to do this."

So I walked away. When I finally found her, she was crying. My eyes immediately widened. "Annalise? Are you okay?"

"I can't do this..." She shook her head.

"Yes, you can." I said. "You can."

"You have to do it." She looked up at me. "You're me, you can do this. You've been trained, Leorah. You can do it."

"Annalise, no one else can do this but you." I stated.

"You are me, Leorah." She whispered shakily. "But I can't do this. You can."

"I have no standing with the court." I said. "I...I'm only just re-enrolled in law school."

"Wait what?"

"Nothing." I groaned. "That isn't important."

She made shaky eyecontact with me. "You can do this. Please."

"This was your dream." I said softly. "All yours."

She gulped. "And it's yours, Leorah. And you...you're going to fulfill it today."

Oh Jesus Christ.

Coming here, I was afraid. Now I was horrified. I'd been prepped to go to trial to fight a case in front of the supreme court in under a few minutes. Annalise would be beside me, helping me, but this was me, and she constantly reminded me of that very fact. No one was very happy about the turn of events. I wasn't either, but I was more in shock than anything else.

I could hardly remember the "Oyez", and the justices standing up. Oh, G-d, today is the day I die.

"Mr. Chief Justice, and may it please the court...until my client, Mr. Nathaniel Lahey, was nine years old, it was illegal for him to sit at a white-only counter. That changed when Brown vs. Board of Education ended segregation. Until he was eighteen, he had no right to free-legal counsel. Gideon v. Wainwrite ended that. At twenty, Miranda v. Arizona stopped the police from being able to arrest him without informing him of his right to an attorney. With each of these landmark decisions, this Court helped Mr. Lahey get closer to the equality that our constitution promises ever citizen in this country.

But he's still not there. He's still not equal. Instead, he's the victim of a broken system."

"A victim!?" One of the justices cried out.

"Yes, your honor, a victim." I rang back. "Of repeated instances of Sixth Amendment violations."

"Your client is a confessed murderer, Ms. King."

"Justice Strickland, my client was never informed of his right to appeal his sentence after his first conviction. That's how ineffective his counsel was." I raised a brow.

"This is the version of the story coming from him?" He pointed toward Mr. Lahey.

"Every one of the fifteen public defenders that he has had represent him told him to plead guilty." I retorted.

"So, you're saying that he was not guilty of any of these crimes?" Another Justice chimed in.

"Thank you." The original justice said.

"Without properly funded counsel, he received sentences longer than the average man. And these years in prison included solitary confinement. which resulted in an abundance of mental-health issues, that lead to the tragic events of this murder."

"But you just said that your client was a victim." The justice argued.

"The victim of an under funded public defense system." I shot back.

"Don't interrupt me." The justice growled.

My heart leapt out of my chest, but to be honest, I was raging.

"The only victim of this case is Gerald Reinhoff, the man your client beat to death in cold blood." The justice stated.

"We are not here to try a murder, but to understand the events that led up to this murder."

"But of all the plaintiffs you could have brought us, you're asking us to feel for a murderer?" He scoffed.

"The man a system turned into a murderer." I argued.

"I said don't interrupt."

Oh, I've never wanted to deck an old man harder.

"Now, what is apparent to me, and to several of my fellow justices..."

"Let's not speak for the rest of us." One justice said.

I could hardly contain a smirk.

"...is that this is a money issue, one that the legislature of Pennsylvania can decide."

I put weight on my other foot. "Except that this case isn't strictly about money, Your Honor. This is about race. One in three black men will go to prison versus one in seventeen white men."

"Either you are arguing that your plaintiffs are getting ineffective counsel because of poor funding, or because of race, so which is it?"

"Both." I spat.

"Not all of your plaintiffs are people of color." One justice pointed out.

"My sample of plaintiffs matches a racial breakdown of incarceration. Forty percent of my plaintiffs are black, twenty percent are latino."

"If you want us to consider race, it would have to be the determining factor-"

"It's one of many factors."

"But, is it the determining factor? Either it is or it isn't."

I gripped the podium hard. "Yes. Race is the determining factor."

"You did not file this class action on the grounds of discrimination, so we cannot consider race in our decision."

"I disagree." Said a female Justice. "This bench must consider the validity of Ms. King's equal protection argument."

"The impact of a ruling based on race would have adverse procedural implications." Said another justice.

Their voices became jumbled, and one again, Strickland said, "Race cannot be used in this case."

"Your honor, I'd like to use the rest of my time to work on my rebuttal." I stated.

"Request for rebuttal is granted." So I sat.

The opposing attorney stepped up. "Mr. Chief Justice, and may it please the court."

I wrote "Brugant v. Topeka - mid 80's" on a sticky note, waving Michaela over, I gave it to her. "Look this up in the library." I looked into her eyes wearily. "We're not going to win without it."

She swallowed, and gave a nod, before running off.

Annalise wrapped a hand around my arm softly, a smile on her face. "Even if you don't win this, Leorah, that was beautiful. Thank you for doing this."

I nodded. "I'm scared."

"Me too."

With pursed lips I waited.

After a few agonizing minutes, one of the Justices said, "Ms. King, it's time for your rebuttal argument."

I swallowed, swiveling to turn around. Michaela popped in right on time, shoving the papers in my hands. I took a deep breath, and walked over to the podium. "'As an arbiter of the law, with whole knowledge of historical jurisprudence in this country, race must always be considered a variable.'" I quoted.

"You have precious time, Ms. Kind." Justice Strickland smiled at me condescendingly. "I suggest you don't waste it by making arguments you've already made."

"These are not my words, Justice Strickland. They're yours." I cocked my head over so slightly, wearing a cocky smile on my face. "You wrote them in your 1985 ruling in Bryant v. Topeka, an equal protection case dealing with a state-housing lottery program. Racism is built into the DNA of America. And as long as we turn a blind eye to the pain of those suffering under its oppression, we will never escape those origins. The only safeguard people of color have is the right to a defense, and we wont even give them that. Which means that the promise of civil rights has never been fulfilled. Due to the failure of our justice system, our public defense system in particular, Jim Crow is alive and kicking...laws that made it illegal for whites and blacks to be buried in the same cemetery, that categorized people into quadroons and octaroons, that punished a black person for seeking medical attention in a white hospital.

Some may claim that slavery has ended. But tell that to the inmates who are kept in cages and told that they don't have any rights at all. People like my client, Nathanial Lahey, and millions of people like him who are relegated to a subclass of human existance in our prisons. There is no alternative to justice in this case. There is no other option. To decide against my plaintiff is to choose lining the pockets of prison owners over providing basic defense for the people living in them. And is that the America that this court really wants to live in? Where money is more important than humanity? Where criminality is confused with mental health? The sixth amendment was ratified in 1791. It's been 226 years since then. Let's finally guarantee it's rights to all of our citizens."

The justices were now going to decide on a decision.

I couldn't believe I had done that.

Connor kissed me multiple times in pure joy, Annalise had hugged me so tight I thought I was going to be suffocated. Same with Olivia.

Speaking of Olivia, we were standing together outside of my apartment building. The wind was brushing against my face, blowing my hair back, stinging my eyes.

"Your performance was other worldly, Leorah." She said softly.

I didn't respond.

"You have a talent. You rocked that trial, and you did it well. You're going to be an amazing lawyer, and everyone is going to know your name because of this." She smiled. "I'm proud of you."

I smiled back. "I came from nothing, Olivia. I made myself who I am today. I got myself into that supreme court courtroom. I did all of that."

She nodded. "You're a piece of work, Leorah King. But that's what's gonna get you far. It's what got you this far."

I smiled lightly. "Thank you, for everything you've ever done for me. I appreciate it."

"Of course."

With a deep breath, I turned to her. "I'm gonna go back into my hotel room, and tell my fiancé I love him."

"You do that." She chuckled. "Don't hesitate to call me, with anything, okay?"

"Okay."

She gave a nod, and clicked off.

I entered the hotel again, and saw Connor with Poppy on his lap. She was giggling at him. I smiled.

"There she is." Connor said dramatically. "It's your mommy, Poppy."

She glanced up at me, a big grin on her face.

I walked over to my family, and took a seat next to Connor. I gave Poppy a kiss, and then Connor. "I love you. Both of you."

"We love you more." He said softly.