Thank you to everyone who read Tinder Strangers and asked for a sequel. This story is dedicated to you.

Emily Graham had never hated a human being more in her life than she hated the sixteen year-old killer sitting in front of her. But as his lawyer at Chao and Benowitz, it was her job to save his life.

Emily pushed back from her desk to look Stilton Lawrence in the eyes. The arrogant teenager sat with his arms crossed, a defensive posture that wouldn't win him any points with the jury.

"Okay Stilton," Emily said. "Let's go back to the beginning one more time…"

Stilton didn't look away from Emily, but his only answer to her was a shrug. Inside his eyes was the blatant stare of a boy who had lived a privileged life without consequences. And if she could see it, she worried the jury would, too.

Emily cleared her throat. "Stilton, a shrug won't work on the witness stand…"

Before she could finish the rest of her thought, the boy's father interrupted. "I don't see how reiterating what happened is going to be a good use of our time, Miss Graham. This is our third visit to your office, and at this point I'd like to see something concrete about your strategy for defending my son."

Emily thought she'd been pretty damn clear about her defense strategy, but she had grown used to being second-guessed. She looked younger than her thirty-six years, and even though she had a stellar record as a criminal attorney at Chao and Benowitz, she still had to prove herself to clients. And Brian Lawrence was a client who she treated with care. The Lawrence family had spent an unknown sum over the years to keep a Chao and Benowitz attorney on retainer. And now that their son was on trial for murder, and had cycled through three other defense attorneys inside Chao and Benowitz alone, Emily had been given strict instructions from civil court genius Linda Chao herself: get Stilton Lawrence acquitted of murder.

Emily took a deep breath to steady her thoughts as she addressed the boy's father. "Brian, in first degree murder cases with a similar profile to ours, cases where teenagers were tried as adults, the jury's verdict depended almost solely on how trustworthy they found the accused when he took the stand."

Brian clutched his thick hands into fists as he pinned her with his eyes. "So, what I'm hearing is that you are willing to risk my son's future on whether or not he can do a good job defending himself on the witness stand?"

Emily shook her head. "That's not exactly what I meant. I'm the best violent crimes defense attorney in this office, and I'm obviously going to do my part…"

"Which is doing what exactly?"

Beside his father, Stilton smirked.

Emily grit her teeth. "As I said, all of the research indicates…"

Brian let out a long, angry breath and leaned forward. "Look, Emily. Linda Chao is my retainer, and when she assured me that you were the best lawyer in this office for my son's case, I believed her. But I've been hearing some unsettling rumors about Jeri Hogarth leaving this firm, and taking her clients with her. Jeri's reputation as a criminal defense attorney here was impeccable, which makes me wonder… even with our history with Linda, would Stilton and I would be better served seeking out Jeri Hogarth?"

Emily bit back her panic. If she lost the Lawrence family to Hogarth, she could kiss her job goodbye. The entire firm was still reeling from Jeri's departure, desperate to fill the clientele void the notorious lawyer had left behind. "Mr. Lawrence, I can assure you that every minute of my time is devoted, and will continue to be devoted, to your son's case."

Brian Lawrence visibly relaxed at that statement. He edged back into his plush seat, nodded. "I'm glad to hear it. But I still feel like we're going around in circles here."

"I know what I'm doing, Mr. Lawrence. And part of saving your son from life in prison is to make sure we iron out his story for any… mishaps on the witness stand, especially since you have made it abundantly clear you won't accept a plea bargain."

Emily hadn't been happy when the Lawrence family had dismissed the D.A.'s plea bargain, a far lesser sentence of fifteen years, with Stilton eligible for parole in eight. It had been a gift. And one that Brian Lawrence had mocked before storming out of the D.A.'s office.

"My son will not waste his life sitting in a prison."

"If you feel that strongly about going to trial, then let me do my job." Emily switched her gaze from father to son. "Now, Stilton, pretend I'm sitting on the jury and explain to me why you killed your best friend."

Stilton shifted in his chair. "Well, like I said, Derrick was over at my house, and me and him were just playing Xbox, you know?"

Emily nodded. "A cooperative shooting game, is that right?"

Stilton licked his lips, nodded. His eyes stayed locked on Emily. "Yeah, but then Derrick goes, 'Hey, watch this.' And he starts moving his controller without touching it. Said he was using his mind. Then he was all like, 'Get your dad's gun. Let's see if we can shoot some shit without touching anything,' and I felt like I was moving outside myself, you know? Like he was controlling me…"

Emily had heard Stilton tell his story before, and every time he told it the little details kept changing. It was the telltale sign of a bad liar, but all she could do at this point was get his story as clean as she could. "So, Derrick manipulated you into getting your father's gun, is that right?"

Stilton licked his lips again. Another tell.

"Stilton, you need to be mindful of your body language. Your case begins in six weeks, and when you take the stand in your own defense, little gestures like fidgeting, licking your lips… the jury will see these and interpret them as if you might be hiding something. And if you're telling the truth, there's no need to be hide anything, is there?"

Stilton shook his head.

"Okay then. When you tell your story to me, and especially when you're cross-examined by the D.A., you're going to want to spend more time on the powers Derrick showed you for the first time that day. Make it about him, not you. Don't just tell the jury about your helplessness and your fear… show them." Emily fought back her gag reflex as she said, "Show them that any one of them would have pulled the trigger and killed Derrick if they'd been in your shoes that day, okay?"

It was another painful hour before Emily gained confidence in Stilton's story, and another hour after that for Brian Lawrence to end another barrage of unnecessary questions. When father and son finally strolled out of her office, Emily put her forehead down on her desk and closed her eyes.

She knew many defendants were trapped in the system, held hostage to the amount of money and power the D.A.'s office had at their disposal to prosecute. When Emily became a defense attorney, she had envisioned righting wrongs, watching the falsely accused be set free. Then the law bubble had burst, and all the offers for firms in Manhattan began to dry up. Emily was barely able to pay her bills, so she was relieved when Chao and Benowitz had given her an offer. She'd worked her butt off for them ever since. But never in her wildest dreams had she imagined defending a teen that showed no remorse for murder.

A knock on Emily's door interrupted her fantasies of jumping on a flight to Tahiti. She glanced up to find Foggy Nelson standing against the threshold to her office, a smile on his face.

"Bad day?" he said.

Foggy was like a younger brother to her, and always the first to send flowers to an associate or to get everyone to sign a card for an office birthday. She always wondered what a kind-hearted guy like Foggy was doing in a law firm like Chao and Benowitz. He seemed to have less of a stomach for this stuff than she did.

Emily shuffled her notes. "Haven't you heard? Linda gave me the Lawrence case."

"It's the talk of the office. Bets are down as to whether or not this case will get passed off to a lesser lawyer here."

"Not an option. Linda made that clear."

"That's the spirit." Foggy grinned and plopped himself on the chair that Stilton had just occupied. "I read the files you asked me to. You know, being a former expert attorney for Nelson and Murdoch and all. You're not going to have an easy win."

Emily nodded. She was grateful for Foggy's perspective on this case. She'd asked Foggy once why Nelson and Murdoch hadn't worked out. She'd assumed it had been a monetary issue. Most small businesses fail in the first year, after all, but it had been clear it was more than that, and Foggy refused to talk about it.

Foggy steepled his hands behind his head and grinned. "For the record, if I weren't already neck-deep in my own criminal cases, I'd love to take this one off your hands."

Emily arched an eyebrow. "Really?"

"Nah, not really. The defendant shot his best friend in the back!"

"All I have to go on is his claim of the victim having super powers. Which I can't prove."

"And which, also, has saved the asses of many people on this planet thanks to the Avengers…"

"God, this sucks." Emily closed her eyes and tried to rub the day's stress from her temples. "Any more advice, Mr. Expert Attorney?"

Foggy grew contemplative. "Can you force someone who knew about Derrick's powers to testify as a hostile witness?"

"I've thought about it. I even went to his high school a few weeks ago, hoping someone would talk to me, but apparently Derrick was a popular guy. If he had powers that scared the hell out of people, no one seemed bothered. And the principal was no help at all, insinuating that Stilton had made the whole thing up. I can only imagine how Derrick's family would treat me if I showed up on their doorstep…"

Emily trailed off. The two junior associates sat in the quiet of Emily's office, each nursing their thoughts, as Chao and Benowitz buzzed with activity just outside the door.

"You know," Foggy said quietly, "if you are able to get a win on this case, you could be in the running for senior partner. I mean, if you're looking for a motivational speech here."

A sharp laugh escaped Emily's throat. "At this point, I'll just be happy to be done with this case. Everything comes down to whether or not the jury believes that super-powered humans are a threat. And after all the good superheroes have done for New York, how the hell am I supposed to do that?"

"I may be able to help." Foggy dug a business card from his breast pocket and passed it to her. "It's actually one of the reasons why I stopped by. There's a P.I. I met through a friend of mine. Her name is Jessica Jones, and she can do the investigative legwork for you while you're here prepping for court."

Emily studied the card. Alias Investigations. Jessica Jones. 485 West 46th Street. "And you think she'd be sympathetic to my case?"

"Actually, I'd imagine it's the exact opposite."

Emily locked gazes with her colleague.

"Jessica Jones is a super human herself."

Emily swallowed hard. "I see."

"But she's also a professional private investigator who needs to pay her rent. And she would know what evidence to look for, which gives you an advantage in court, especially since she has powers." Foggy stood, smoothing out his tie as he headed to her office door. "It's a start, at least. The worst that could happen is she says no, but I'm sure she could recommend another P.I. for you."

"Thanks Foggy. You're the best."

He feigned tipping an invisible hat in a show of chivalry as he showed himself out.

Emily sighed as she turned the business card over in her hands. God knew she needed more evidence. She should've thought about hiring a P.I. weeks ago, but kept putting it off in the blurry-eyed haze of her ninety-hour work weeks.

And now she was running out of time.

She had to link Derrick to super human attacks, to anything that would work to gain the jury's attention and trust. And if she wanted to stay employed, she needed to win.