Lincoln fled wildly through the halls of the court building. He heard his name being called a few times, one of them coming from Girl Jordan, but he didn't seem to care. He ran almost aimlessly, but he seemed to be frantically looking for something... or someone. And finally, he looked into an empty room and saw a judge's robe on a chair. There was Rex Wonklin, now in a very smart suit and tie that he obviously wore underneath the robe, massaging his temples with both his hands, like he found it strangely hard to tackle the Loud family's case. Having come from New York, Wonklin obviously had to brush up on the Michigan state law, or least the legislatures and acts that squarely concerned the case he was called upon to help with. Lincoln burst into the room and stood before Wonklin, panting wearily. His face was coated in sweat and tears.

"Lincoln?" Wonklin was very surprised to see the white-haired boy just barge in.

"Why...?" Lincoln panted heavily.

"What is it, my boy?" asked Wonklin, though maybe he already knew the answer.

"Why did you do this?!" Lincoln's face looked up directly at Wonklin and the court judge could see that the case had just about traumatized him.

"My boy," he replied. "I had to act in accordance with the state law... and to ensure the protection of children."

"But... the maximum sentence?!" cried Lincoln. Wonklin simply sighed.

"Sit down, if you like," he offered, keeping his voice very quiet. "We could be here a while." So they sat at a table. "My boy," Wonklin began. "When I first reviewed this case, and after hearing firsthand from our witnesses, I came to the understanding that I would have to take such drastic actions. There have been many cases I took on in my lifetime when this was necessary."

"It doesn't make it any less scary," Lincoln croaked.

"That's true," Wonklin agreed. "Believe it or not, I sometimes scare myself. Why don't you put things this way, though? Think of this case as a means to save your sisters from themselves."

"Uh... I don't follow," said Lincoln, looking confused.

"Your parents have raised a large family," the judge began. "And for whatever reason, they either chose to or resigned themselves to allow their daughters to... run hog wild. Without that first step in their lives, which is proper discipline, guidance, and etiquette, they are left unable to process the difference between right and wrong."

"So for that... you hold my parents accountable?"

"I had to. It's like Mr. Gavelyn said before. Despite whatever talents they have, society may not have a place for your sisters if they lack maturity and responsibility. One does not simply go out into the real world with talent alone."

"But they're still my family!" Lincoln felt the need to burst again, but Wonklin gave him a surprisingly kind smile.

"Yes," he said. "And as a person, that makes you unique and, dare I say it, lucky."

"Huh?"

"You were raised under the same roof as these girls whom even you have found to be unstable at times. You could have been molded into something similar, but instead, you have proven to emerge as a remarkably selfless human being. For one, no matter how many times your family has wronged you, you continue to profess that they do not deserve to be punished by the methods of the state law. Tell me something. What is it you would have wanted for them, if you could have it your way?"

"I know what I could have done differently," Lincoln murmured. "I could have gone home to them... when my dad made that call."

"Would it have changed anything, my boy?" asked Wonklin. "The future is always in motion. Did you believe that your family was ready to change their ways then and there? Your father alone was desperate to take you back. What do you think things would have amounted to if he had?" Lincoln remembered that he had thought of both possibilities of wanting to return home and start again. Would they have treated him differently? Or would nearly losing him and getting themselves into serious trouble with the law cause them to lash out and he'd be the lamb in a family of lions?

"I... I don't know..." the white-haired boy said, shaking his head. Perhaps Judge Wonklin made a point to dish out such a harsh sentence for an act of child abuse.

"Lincoln," said Wonklin, getting the boy's attention again. "Samson and I are old friends, obviously setting that aside whenever we happen to tackle cases. We went to law school together in New York. Oh, we had our fair share of trying days, but we would always talk about our plans for the future, to do what we could for the children of the world. We're very protective of children, you know. I'm afraid... there are many terrible, terrible things that happen in this world we live in, so much so that it is beyond saddening. Some people... are just genuinely bad. And they either never change their ways or refuse to change their ways." Lincoln recalled what Lyra knew about what defined a bad person as opposed to a person simply doing bad things. "I... I still remember my very first case," Wonklin continued. "The defendant was a young man. He...committed a crime. And right there in the courtroom... came the crocodile tears. Or rather, I considered them as such at a later time. He gave a short apology speech, claiming he acted in self-defense and wouldn't do it again... He was let off with a warning." Wonklin's mood then shifted and Lincoln could tell the story was about to change tones. "Three days later... he committed the exact same crime again," said the judge. "He was brought back to court... and he delivered the exact same apology speech as before, complete with crocodile tears. He was found guilty this time, and his sentence was quite harsh under the belief that he fooled us the first time. I wasn't about to buy into that old saying... 'fool me once, shame on you, fool me twice... shame on me'... Since that day, I refused to relent and take chances. Those responsible for tangling with the law must learn in whatever way it takes that they are not above it. This is why Samson and I work together and set examples in the hopes that many eyes in public societies will learn from the examples and follow the line... to make us all human, to make the world a better place. There are such people out there who want nothing more than to deter that progress, believing the world is just their own backyard that they can toy with."

"But... what does my family have to do with all this?" Lincoln asked. "What about my parents?"

"Do not think I will not pity them," said Wonklin. "It can be disappointing sometimes when true colors are revealed. I do pity them for what they chose to do - the way they raised your sisters, or should I say didn't raise, and what they did to you... what could have become of you. My boy, people like you are a rare breed. Despite everything you've endured, you continue to be good at heart and well meaning of others. As for your sisters, I can only hope that whatever new families or just anyone who takes them in will at least know what not to do. Children, especially those like you, deserve so much better."

"But I wouldn't have traded them for the world!" Lincoln insisted.

"...I think you were taken for granted, I'm afraid."

"But why would they?"

"I don't know. Whether they knew they were taking advantage of you or not, if it took things coming down to this case... it had to come to an end, Lincoln. So it did."

"What will happen to me?"

"Well... I noticed Miss Lyra Lone has taken a fancy to you... like a son, of course. ...You haven't noticed?"

"I was angry before," Lyra started. "But there's something I feel even more. I'm... disappointed. I'm very disappointed in the Loud family. Not only have they abused one of their own, whom I can admit I've grown to love..." Lincoln blushed as Lyra went on. "...but we've also seen and heard with our own eyes and ears, in this very room, what has transpired as a result. The family seems to depend on Lincoln to keep them together, which makes it ironic and even more disappointing of how he's been treated, namely before this bad luck incident. And seeing a few family members reach desperate levels in an attempt to take him back not only makes me wonder just how far the family will fall apart without him, or worse, what they will do with him even if they are able to return to being a whole family." Lincoln recalled having the exact same fears, seeing as nothing was ruled out. Now that he thought about it, his sisters in particular had more than enough chances to set things right, but time and time again, he was either just their footstool, slave, guinea pig, and/or punching bag. "I've worked with many children in the few years I've had my job as a child specialist," Lyra went on. "Not a single one came from an abusive household or even had such a harrowing experience as Lincoln here has. What happens is that parents leave their children in our care for a few days so we can help them deal with their own mental health issues that they might be struggling with, which their parents are usually unable to deal with themselves. Sometimes, kids come on a weekend basis, sort of like being at a retreat. And we help them, to the best of our abilities. Lincoln was certainly a special case... and I was glad to have helped him. I actually hope... to continue to do so."

Lincoln pondered for a bit, but contrary to Wonklin's question, he had noticed. Lyra did love him and he came to realize that he loved her too.

"Don't you see?" said Wonklin. "There is so much more to family than just being related by blood. Yes, they say it's thicker than water, but there is something thicker than blood, something you can't just cut with a knife."

"What is it?" asked Lincoln.

"Love," answered Wonklin. It seemed a bit weird having this kind of discussion with a court judge, especially given the harsh sentence he only just bestowed on the boy's parents. "It is the bonds we share with other people, regardless of relations. We may never know if your parents were truly up to the task of raising all eleven of their children... but everyone has their place in the world, for better or for worse."

"I still feel like I've sacrificed their dreams just to claim my own."

"You haven't," Wonklin assured. "My boy... I do not expect you to forgive me, nor do I expect that one day you will thank me. I am not even certain if we may cross paths once again." He chuckled a bit. "Odds are, maybe I'll be retired before that day comes."

"You?"

"I can't go on forever. And I don't really want to try." Wonklin then stood up. "I think we've said enough for one day. Samson and I must return to New York." Lincoln also stood up and Wonklin gently escorted him to the door. "Take care, Lincoln. You'll find yourself making sacrifices to attain your dreams, so this won't be the last time, I'm sure. But never abandon hope."

"...I won't." And with that, Lincoln left. Wonklin returned to the table, only to find a single card on it. It was an ace of spades playing card and he touched it with his fingers, tingling slightly.

"So shines a good deed... in a weary world."