Chapter 60 Perfect
Lily paused, knife in hand, eyes narrowing with curiosity. “Good how?”
Maggie pushed off the counter, moved beside her, and reached for a potato. “He brought roses. Red ones. My favorite.”
Lily’s brows shot up. “Seriously?”
“Yes. He somehow guessed right.” Maggie began peeling— slow, careful strips curling under the blade. “We talked for over an hour. Lost track of time completely. He looked at my art— really looked— and said it was stunning.”
Lily bumped her hip lightly against Maggie’s. “And?”
Maggie’s voice softened, almost shy. “And I think I might give him a chance. Honestly… I’m already hoping he’ll plan the second date.”
Lily stopped peeling, turning fully to face her. “Mags.”
Maggie met her gaze— steady, unguarded. “I know what you’re about to say.”
“You’re falling fast. Again.”
“This is different.”
Lily set her knife down, lips pressing into a thin line. “That’s exactly what you said about Tyler.”
“I know.” Maggie exhaled— slow, honest. “But this feels different. I have this gut feeling he’s genuine. The way he stepped in at the club. The way he listened today. He didn’t try to impress me— he just… was.”
Lily studied her for a long moment, searching. Then her expression softened. “Okay. I see it.”
Maggie’s shoulders dropped, relief washing through her. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” Lily picked up her knife again, smirking. “But if he hurts you, I’m breaking his knees.”
Maggie laughed— bright, sudden. “Noted.”
They worked side by side— peeling, chopping, boiling, mashing. Butter melted into cream, garlic sizzled softly, chives scattered like green confetti. The kitchen filled with comfort smells; beyond the windows, city lights glittered like scattered stars.
Lily licked butter from her thumb. “So… how tall is he?”
Maggie smiled, small but certain. “Very tall. Taller than Tyler.”
Lily bumped her shoulder again, gentler this time. “Really?”
“Yes.” Maggie nodded, her smile widening.
“Oh, now everything makes sense.” Lily grinned, a knowing look in her eyes.
“What do you mean?” Maggie asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Come on, you know what I mean.” Lily teased, voice sing‑song. “You’ve always had a soft spot for tall men.”
“Stop it.” Maggie blushed lightly, though her face betrayed the truth.
“You know I’m right.” Lily winked.
They both laughed softly as they plated the mashed potatoes— steaming, creamy, perfect. They sat at the island together, eating slowly, laughing about nothing, letting the afternoon stretch.
Outside, Pullman quieted.
Inside, two friends talked until the potatoes were gone and the city lights began to dim.
And somewhere in Maggie’s chest, a small, certain hope took root— quiet, steady, growing.
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'TWO WEEKS LATER— AFTER MAGGIE AND ANDREW'S FIRST DATE AT Q&S'
The fluorescent lights of the Faculty of Law hallway hummed with a clinical sort of energy, a stark contrast to the exhausted sighs and frantic whispers echoing against the lockers. It was 4:00 PM— the golden hour for some, but for the survivors of LAW 600: Criminal Procedure, it felt like the morning after a battlefield skirmish.
Maggie stood near the tall, arched windows, the late afternoon sun catching the stray dark hairs that had escaped her ponytail during the three-hour ordeal. Clad in head-to-toe denim— a fitted blue jean jacket over matching jeans— she looked more like a protagonist in a gritty indie film than a stressed-out law student. In her hand, she clutched the 50-question multiple-choice sheet as if it were a holy relic.
"Question fourteen," Lily said, leaning in, her finger hovering over the paper. "The one about the Fourth Amendment exception for 'plain view' during a warrantless sweep. Did you go with C?"
Maggie scanned the sheet, her eyes narrowing. "Wait, the one involving the contraband on the nightstand? Yeah, I went with C. Horton v. California logic— the incriminating character was immediately apparent."
Lily let out a breath she seemed to have been holding since the proctor called time. "Oh, thank God. I almost talked myself into B, but C felt more robust." She flipped to the second page. "What about twenty-two? The Miranda waiver question?"
"Definitely A," Maggie said firmly. "The waiver has to be knowing, intelligent, and voluntary. The fact that the suspect was tired doesn’t automatically negate voluntariness. I stuck with A."
"Me too," Lily chirped, a small, victorious smile playing on her lips. "Okay, one more. Thirty-eight. The Grand Jury indictment clause?"
Maggie didn’t even have to look. "The Fifth Amendment doesn't incorporate the Grand Jury requirement to the states via the Fourteenth. So, the answer was D— it's a state-by-state choice."
"Yes." Lily beamed, tapping her sheet against Maggie’s. "We’re geniuses, thanks to you."
Maggie laughed, though her eyes drifted. "Let's check a few more. What did you get for the 'Terry Stop' question on page three? Number eleven?"
Lily checked her notes. "I put B. Reasonable suspicion, not probable cause."
"Perfect," Maggie nodded. "And forty-five? The fruit of the poisonous tree?