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It was shaping up to be one of the longest days of my life. When I took on the job as a certified legal intern at the prosecutor's office this summer, I realized I would be coming in early and leaving late. I hadn't expected, however, that I'd be stuck in the office till 10:30 on a random Thursday night researching case law and sifting through files. The Bull Pen was fast becoming my home, and because of the late hour I felt comfortable enough to slip off my black high heels (which I now hated with a passion) and let my shoulder length blonde hair go free. I briefly wished I could change from my classic black skirt and white button down top into something more comfortable, but settled for unbuttoning a few of the top buttons. As was habit, I brushed my fingertips over the set of pearls at my neck as I thought. Okay, if I can just find something, anything, that's relevant to this case, I can go home, take a nice hot bath and snuggle down into bed. I took a deep breath, closed my eyes for just a minute, then got back to work.

I was sitting in one of the uncomfortable office chairs, concentrating on reading what seemed like my five-hundredth file when John, the only other person in the building, rushed in the room and excitedly stated, "I think I've got it!" John was one of the younger prosecutors on staff. I usually liked working for him the most because he was young enough to remember what it was like being an intern himself, so he actually appreciated the work I did. He was also extremely sarcastic and usually had me struggling not to laugh out loud during meetings ...

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