**An Extraordinary Case**
«Your Honour, I withdraw my financial claim against the defendant,» said Thomas quietly. A murmur of confusion rippled through the courtroom.
The judge, long accustomed to courtroom theatrics, raised an eyebrow.
«Mr. Thompson, you do realise this wont affect the verdict but will forfeit your right to compensation?»
«I do.»
Katherinedespite her youth, colleagues respectfully called her by her full namecontinued typing without so much as a flicker of emotion. Five years in this job had hardened her to human pettiness and stupidity. She saw herself as the conductor of a train hauling carriages of other peoples disasters, unmoved by the cargo.
The case against Lucy W. was the sort the tabloids adoreda serial romance scammer whod conned four men through dating sites. None had met her in person, yet theyd sent hefty sums to her account. One sob story involved a car crash, another a vindictive ex-husband, and a third, a sick child.
«Honestly, whats new?» Katherine mused while preparing the case files. Four grown men, seemingly successful, had fancied themselves knights in shining armour, believing money could buy them love. In reality, theyd been messaging a married mother of three.
Now, they were all herethe defendant and her victims. Three of them sat stiff with outrage, demanding restitution, their speeches dripping with venom. They werent wrong. The law was on their side. Katherine mechanically noted the usual phrases: «emotional distress,» «fraudulent misrepresentation,» «financial exploitation.»
Then there was Thomas Thompson, sitting slightly apart. No anger, no self-pity. When he waived his claim, the room fell silent. One of the other men spun around, incredulous.
«Have you lost your mind? She played you for a fool! Your money probably bought her husband a new phone!»
Thomas looked at him with quiet sadness. «I know. But shes got three kids. Let the money stay with them. I dont need it back.»
Katherines fingers stilled. Generosity was a rare sight in these halls. She studied his handsrough from welding work, clasped calmly on his kneesand his eyes, gentle despite everything. In a world where everyone fought for scraps, hed simply let go.
After the hearing, another victims lawyer shook his head. «That fourth blokes a proper romantic. Naïve as a lamb.»
Katherine, usually silent, countered, «Thats not naivety. Its strength. The kind money cant buy.»
Everyone stared. Even she surprised herself.
Over the next few hearings, she caught herself watching himhow he listened without interrupting, how his gaze sometimes drifted to the window as if searching the grey sky for answers only he cared about.
On the final day, as the verdict was read and the crowd dispersed, Thomas lingered in the corridor, looking lost. Katherine stepped out.
«Need directions?» she asked, all business.
«Just got turned around,» he admitted with a sheepish smile.
«Exits that way.» She nodded.
«Cheers.»
He took a few steps before she called after him.
«Thomas?»
He turned, surprised.
«You were right,» she said, her voice unexpectedly unsteady. «About the children. It was decent of you.»
He studied her for a moment.
«You know, Katherine» He hesitated, unsure how to address her.
«Kate,» she offered.
«Kate. Kindness is rare in here. Thanks for noticing.»
He left. She watched him go, realising with a jolt that her long-dormant heart had just skipped a beat.
Then came the rain. A proper downpour, just as Thomas stepped outside. He paused under the awning, debating whether to sprint for the bus.
A voice spoke behind him.
«Weve got a government-issue umbrella. Meant for important documents, but I think a decent bloke qualifies.»
It was Kate, holding a sturdy black umbrella. There was a flicker of uncertainty in her eyes, as if she couldnt quite believe her own boldness.
«Dont want to keep you,» Thomas said.
«My shifts over. Im heading to the park. If youre going that way»
They walked side by side beneath the umbrella, careful not to brush shoulders. The silence was unexpectedly comfortable.
«You always this protective of victims?» Thomas finally asked.
«No. Never,» Kate admitted. «Youre the first who didnt play by logic. It got to me.»
«Probably daft of me.»
«Its rare. And rare things matter.»
At the park, the rain softened to a drizzle.
«Fancy a walk?» Thomas asked. «If youve got time.»
Kate hesitated only a second. «Protocol breached, Katherine,» she thought wryly, but nodded.
Thomas gazed at the clearing sky. She waited, giving him space.
«Never had this happen before,» he said quietly. «People usually think Im odd.»
«Because you didnt turn bitter. These days, thats practically eccentric.»
He met her eyes. «And you? Think Im a nutter?»
«I think youre real. And in my line of work, thats worth more than gold.»
A pause. Then:
«Want to know why?»
She nodded.
Thomas sighed, his expression turning distant.
«Started and ended at school. Her name was Lily. What I felt for her wasnt just loveshe was everything. Bright, beautiful, untouchable. We were *that* coupleprom king and queen, the works. I carried her books, danced at graduation Thought itd last forever. Even convinced everyone else it would.»
His voice softened. «Then she left. Got into a posh uni, married a classmate. Sent me a postcardjust three words: *Sorry. Its better this way.*»
«Everything crumbled. Didnt drink, didnt rage. Just went numb. Became a weldergood job for hiding behind a mask. Built walls around my heart, but inside, that daft schoolboy still believed in one true love.»
His mouth quirked. «Then I saw *her* photo onlinethe scammer. Looked just like Lily. The caption? *Still believe in love.* Pathetic, right? But I messaged her. And she wrote back all the things Id waited years to hearabout forever, loyalty, something real. Didnt matter that it was lies. I wasnt buying *her*I was buying the ghost of what Id lost.»
He shrugged. «Funny thing? The trial didnt punish me. It freed me. Seeing herjust a scared, ordinary womanshattered the illusion. Lilys ghost finally left. And the money? Call it an exorcism fee. Pricey, but effective.»
He fell silent, bracing for judgment.
Instead, Kate reached over and covered his hand with hers. Hers was warm, steady.
«Thanks for telling me,» she said softly. «Now I get it. Youre not odd. Youre just true to yourself.»
***
No one at work called her «Kate.» She was always Katherinestrict, efficient, all business. So when colleagues spotted her with Thomas more than once, eyebrows shot up.
Judge Margaret, a woman who could silence a courtroom with a glance, broke the ice first.
«Well, colour me shocked. Thought Katherine had a filing cabinet where her heart should be. Now shes courting our resident romantic?»
Her colleague, Judge Ian, smirked. «With his track record, hes less knight in shining armour and more perpetual victim of his own soft heart. Reckon shes reforming him?»
«Dont be cruel,» Margaret chided, though her lips twitched. «Mans a hard worker. And what he did took guts. Rare in our line.»
In the break room, solicitor Derek threw up his hands. «Romance in a courthouse? Next youll tell me theyre writing sonnets in the cells.»
Kate didnt become less professionaljust lighter. A silver chain appeared around her neck. Sometimes, shed smile at her phone.
The office split into cynics and romantics.
The men joked darkly: «Better polish your shoes, lads. Well be witnesses at the weddingI solemnly swear the defendant stole the secretarys heart.»
The younger women sighed. «Its like a novel! Ice Queen melts for the wounded, kind-hearted welder.»
Only the head accountant, Valerie, cut through the chatter. «Pipe down, you lot. Decent men dont grow on trees. Let the girl be happy.»
One morning, Judge Ian couldnt resist. «Katherine, hows your noble victim? Filed any more claims out of the goodness of his heart?»
The room held its breath.
Kate sipped her tea, then fixed him with a look.
«Ian, if youre so interested in closed cases, I can pull the files. Fancy revisiting case #3-452/18? Or #2-187/19? Plenty of *colourful* characters there.»
Dead silence. Ian choked on his coffee. He knew exactly what she meantKate had processed his divorce.
«No, no! Just making conversation!»
«How thoughtful,» she said sweetly. «But my personal life isnt up for trial. Yet.»
The teasing stopped. Respectful curiosity took its place. The clincher came when Thomas dropped her off at work one morning, stepping out to adjust her coat collara tiny, tender gesture that silenced the last doubters.
That day, Judge Margaret pulled her aside.
«Kate hes good. I can tell. Hold onto him.»
It was the only verdict Kate accepted without protest.
The gossip faded. Colleagues understood: their unflappable secretary had passed her own sentence*»Pardoned. To be loved. To be happy.»* And thered be no appeal.
