Lynda walked into the law office with purpose, but no smile. The waiting room smelled of paper, polish and cold decisions. She signed in at the desk, took her seat and crossed one leg over the other. She looked composed, but inside, she felt like a woman who had already argued a lifetime before the judge ever picked up the file.

Her phone stayed face down on her lap. No messages opened. No risks invited. No distractions are welcome.

Mr Edgewood came out to meet her personally this time. No ...