“No. Not today.” She took the glasses off. “Mrs. Bellamy—”

“Audrey.”

“Audrey. I want you to hear the ugly part before you hear anything else, because I’ve watched people fall in love with the idea of being vindicated and it makes them stupid. This is not a courtroom where your son stands up and everybody weeps. Everything I just described happens in conference rooms over eleven or fourteen months. It’s requests for documents and objections to requests for documents. It’s boring, and it’s slow, and there’s a real chance we spend a year and get a nuisance check and a letter nobody reads. Are you hearing me?”

“Yes.”

“What do you want out of it? And don’t say justice. Justice isn’t a remedy. Courts can’t order it.”

I thought about that longer than she probably expected.