Notes on an Aftermath
Chapter Two: No Time to Breathe
Captain Michael Tucker strides into the Internal Affairs Bureau, files in one hand, and a cup of high octane black coffee in the other. He feels the nervous energy of the other employees in the bureau, and he relishes the sense of control and power that he has over them. He is well on his way to becoming bureau chief; he is thinking that once he gets the ball rolling on the Thomas Crane murder, it will only be a matter of days before he is paraded in front of the press, shaking hands with the police commissioner, accepting his new role as bureau chief, effective immediately.
His ex-wife tells him that he has delusions of grandeur, but of course it looks that way to her, she is a shrink after all. Everything always has a deeper meaning with her. His current wife, Lindsay, is much more appeasing to his ego, and she is just as hungry for his promotion as he is. She is much younger, just about fifteen years his junior, and she owns a small bakery near Hell's Kitchen. She pushes Mike to succeed, and she knows just as well as he does that if he becomes bureau chief, she will be able to reap the benefits, and shoot straight to the A-list of Manhattan's social circle and she will most definitely seize the opportunity to expand her business.
It turns him on slightly that Lindsay is so power hungry, because his former wife, Nina, whom he was married to for twenty years, always stood quietly on the sidelines. She never supported his decision to become an agent for IAB because she had three older brothers, all of them cops, so her prejudice against Internal Affairs had been inherent.
Mike takes another sip of his coffee as he heads straight to the break room. The significance of the file in his hand is, in his opinion, as just as important if someone had finally found the Holy Grail. He knows that what he holds in his hand is gold for him, and he is practically salivating at the thought that he will not only boost his closure rate, but also IAB's public image. A cop killing a cop is perfect fodder for tabloids and the media, and he knows that if he leads his team in the right direction…he cannot even fathom what the future will hold for him.
He walks into the break room and finds his two best agents, Agent Robert "Ham" Hamilton and Agent Mila Fischer enjoying a greasy breakfast, courtesy of McDonald's. Mike grimaces and then he shakes his head of it.
"You're going to have to chuck those plates in about five minutes," he sighs, and Ham and Mila look up, a knowing look on their faces.
"You're not going to tell us what I think you're going to tell us, are you?" Mila asks.
"What do you think I'm going to tell you?" Mike retorts.
"You're going to tell us what she thinks you're going to tell us, but hoping that you don't tell us because she doesn't want to be told what she knows you're going to tell us," Ham says, proud of his circular logic.
Mike scowls at both of them.
"Don't be a smartass, Ham," Mike huffs. "You both are on the Thomas Crane murder. As you both have probably seen, Crane was in the middle of a high profile case. The rape of two fourteen year old girls, and the murder of one of those girls."
"Didn't one of the guys from SVU off Crane?" Mila asks.
"Yeah, Detective Chester Lake," Mike explains. "I want you to go have a talk with CSU and the ME, then after that, I want you to go to Crane's precinct, talk to his CO about his personal affairs."
Mike tosses the file onto the table and then leaves the break room.
Ham and Mila both get up and, as Mike predicted, they simultaneously drop their plates into the trashcan.
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
After a sleepless night, Casey had taken a quick shower and dealt with her first nasty bout of true morning sickness. She vomited several times after she got out of the shower, and she'd felt so tired after that she didn't even bother to put on a bit of makeup.
She had quickly dressed and pulled her hair into a sloppy ponytail.
She is now at the courthouse, and she heads up to the third floor, where the arraignment courts are, and she steps right in the middle of the hustle and bustle. She admits to herself that she will miss it all, if her license is suspended. She will miss the days where she is practically sprinting in her stilettos to get to court with minutes to spare. She will miss the adrenaline rush of a high profile case, and the triumphs of winning cases.
She feels a wave of nausea, and the bile immediately rises into her throat. She grimaces and rushes into the ladies' restroom. She goes into a stall and vomits into the toilet, feeling instantly dizzy and getting onto her knees. She coughs up some more and then when she is finished, she sighs and slowly gets up and flushes the toilet. She walks over to the sinks, one hand patting away the sweat on her forehead, and the other is on her abdomen.
She turns on the water and she cups her hands. She swishes water around in her mouth, then she splashes water over her face. She grabs some paper towels and dries off her face then she sighs and looks into the mirror.
Casey remembers exactly when she became pregnant. It'd been a few nights after the Jenna Ludlow case.
She'd gone to Chester's apartment, anxious to see him since they hadn't been able to spend time together in a while. They ordered take out and opened up some good wine and settled in together. They'd gotten slightly drunk, not too, but they were to the point where they didn't feel like leaving the couch, so they made love there.
She smiles when she thinks about that night. They were happy and at that moment when she rested against him afterward, she began to think that she could spend the rest of her life with him.
Her smile fades and she feels the tears coming. She of course never thought that their lives would fall apart like this. She doesn't regret being pregnant, but she thinks that perhaps things would have been a bit easier. It would be easier to let go, but with a baby on the way, she doesn't know how she will ever accept what is happening. She doesn't want to accept it.
Casey wipes her tears and then she walks out of the restroom and she sighs.
She goes down the long hallway to the courtroom where she is sure Chester will be coming into very soon. She takes a seat in the front row so that she can have a chance to at least hug him and say a few things to him before he goes back to jail.
Everything is a blur, and she just thinks about how she will tell Chester that she is pregnant. She is conflicted because her heart is telling her that he didn't kill Crane. She's been in a relationship with him for a little over a year and a half, and she knows him well enough to know when he is hiding something from her. She knows that there is something that he's not telling her about last night. Right now at this point though, she thinks that it is best to wait until they get to the bottom of this whole mess to tell him because he does have the right to know about his baby. She would never keep him from knowing about his child.
The thought of telling him scares her because she doesn't know what the outcome of all of this will be, and she knows that if things to take a turn for the worse, it will be painful for both of them.
"Docket number 1967045 the people versus Chester Lake," the bailiff announces as Chester is brought into the courtroom.
Judge Harold Polona is presiding today, and he is harsh with bail. Casey knows that Chester will be remanded. She knows that is probably what he wants, since he doesn't have a lawyer representing him.
"I understand that you don't have a lawyer, Mr. Lake," Judge Polona begins. "Would you like the court to provide you with a public defender?"
"No, your honor," Chester says.
"Do you at least have a police officer's union representative present?"
"No, I don't, your honor."
"Do you plan on representing yourself?" Judge Polona asks.
"I'm ready to plead, if you don't mind, your honor," Chester sighs.
Casey is digging her fingernails into her palm, and she realizes it when she draws a bit of blood. She brings her palm to her mouth to stop the small bit of blood.
"How do you plead?" Judge Polona asks.
"Guilty," Chester says.
"I'll hear the people on bail, Ms. Howard" Judge Polona says, writing down Chester's guilty plea.
"The people request remand, your honor," ADA Kim Graylek says. "We have a signed confession from the defendant."
"Then it is so ordered," Judge Polona says. "Mr. Lake, I am remanding you to the custody of the state department of corrections to await trial. And Mr. Lake, I highly recommend that you hire a lawyer. Next case."
Chester turns round to see Casey and she gets up and hugs him. He caresses over her back and kisses her cheek.
"Everything's going to be okay," he whispers as he pulls away. "I love you."
"I love you too," she says.
Because of his nervous energy, he struggles with unbuttoning the cuffs of his shirt sleeves so that he can roll them up. She helps him and then she kisses him.
"I'm going to get you out of this," she promises. "I'm going to help you."
"Get some rest, sweetie," he says before the bailiff escorts him toward the doors. "I'll be okay."
Kim Graylek witnessed the lovelorn display, and she is surprised that Casey Novak is on the other side, in love with a murderer. She heard many things about ADA Casey Novak, how she has the highest closure rate than any other ADA, how she has represented SVU for five years instead of the usual two, and how she has slipped up in a big case that just might cost her career.
Casey is sitting down, just taking everything in and Gina approaches her.
"Ms. Novak?" Kim inquires.
Casey looks up. "Yes…"
"Hi, I'm Kim Graylek."
Kim puts out her hand, and Casey extends hers to shake it.
"I'm sorry, where do I know you from?" Casey asks.
"Oh, we've never met," Kim says. "I'm actually from D.C. I used to help legislate for the Office of Violence Against Women…it's a group that actually specializes in the type of victims you work with…"
Casey nods as she begins to walk. "I-I have to go-"
"Uh, Ms. Novak," Kim says with a smile and Casey turns to her, looking none too happy, and it puts Kim off a bit. "I just want to say that I've read about you in D.C. You're an inspiration."
Casey grins a bit. "Thank you."
"It's a lucky thing you were in court today instead of McCoy having to track you down."
"Why is that?" Casey asks.
"So that I can tell you that I'll be looking forward to working SVU with you in a couple of weeks," Kim smiles.
Casey feels sick all over again and she swallows thickly.
"You won't be."
With that, Casey turns and walks out of the courtroom, leaving Kim Graylek to ponder her statement.
Casey can care less about who will be taking her place soon. Right now, she has to find the truth in all of this mess because she knows for sure that Chester didn't murder Crane.
But she will heed Chester's advice on getting some rest, because she is exhausted, and she is getting a headache from lack of sleep. She needs to rest, pull herself together and then figure out how to get Chester out of this situation because their lives depend on it. All she is thinking of is the baby now, and she needs to try and relax because she knows that too much stress can affect her pregnancy.
She gets up and then she goes out of the courtroom.
"Casey!"
She turns round and sees Liz Donnelly walking briskly toward her.
"Hey judge," Casey says. "What are you doing here?"
"I could ask you the same question," Elizabeth says, taking in Casey's appearance. "Are you alright? You look a little pale…"
"Yeah, I'm fine," Casey says.
"It's a good thing I caught you here," Liz says. "I wanted to warn you…Jack McCoy has a new ADA lined up and-"
"I know," Casey says. "I had the pleasure of meeting her this morning."
"Oh, then I guess you already know when I say that Kim Graylek is a bitch from hell with a chip as big as this state on her shoulder," Liz quips.
Casey furrows her eyebrows.
"I didn't get that impression from her," Casey says. "In fact, she was laying on her admiration for me pretty thick."
"Of course she was," Liz smirks. "That's what she does because she's two-faced and she plays the game well. Word has it that she screwed her own husband over in D.C. in order to take down a high powered congressman. Now they're in the middle of a nasty divorce. She's trailer park trash, and he's old money."
"That is nasty," Casey frowns.
"When are you set to talk to McCoy?"
"Today."
Liz nods.
"I want you to know Casey that I didn't report you because I have something against you," she explains. "I have no malice toward you, nor do I want to take your job."
Casey nods. "I understand."
"You are a brilliant, tough, gutsy lawyer, Casey," Liz compliments. "And I mean that from the bottom of my heart. I have watched you mature and grow into your career over the years…and I don't want to see you fail. I don't know if you've noticed, but over this past year you've changed and not for the better. You've stopped caring."
Casey feels tears springing into her eyes.
"Like I said before," Liz says. "You have lost perspective and you need something to wake you up and get you to see the big picture again."
She sniffles, now suddenly feeling angry. "And what big picture is that?"
"That we have an obligation to uphold and argue the law as honestly and credibly as we can," Liz says firmly. "We cannot bend the rules and try and bury evidence to achieve our own personal definition of justice."
"What is the definition of justice, huh?" Casey asks tearfully. "Because that's what we're supposed to do…get justice for those who can't get it themselves. I just got so sick of telling the victims oh, I'm sorry. Maybe next time we'll get him. Too bad your life got screwed up, too bad the system screwed you over but there's nothing you or I can do about it. "
Liz sighs. "Your attitude toward what you've done lets me know that I've made the right decision."
"Thomas Crane walked on two rapes and a homicide," Casey says, beginning to cry. "That bastard was guilty as sin, Liz. He didn't deserve to live. He helped take that little girl's life. Cecilia Cruz is on her way back to hell. Alyssa Hernandez and Cecilia Cruz had rights, too. The law is supposed to protect the victims, not cocky bastards like Crane. People, victims, their families…they put their trust in us to be able to speak for them. Do you really think that they care about rules and technicalities? No. We should do all we can because then, that trust is misplaced, and when that happens, then what's the point?"
Liz sighs. "Is that the way you really see it? Is that how you feel? That the ends justify the means?"
"You're damn right the ends justify the means," Casey hisses. "And how dare you? Just because I may have lost perspective doesn't mean that I've stopped caring. It's because I care that I put my ass on the line. I do care about every single victim that comes into that unit and hell yes, I'm going to fight for them in every way possible."
Liz looks up at Casey. "That's not what I meant."
"Then what did you mean?" Casey asks.
"I meant that you've stopped caring about yourself."
Casey sniffles and wipes her tears.
Liz puts a hand on Casey's shoulder, leaning in a little closer.
"You need to slow down, Casey," she says quietly. "You're beginning to burn out, and I don't want to see you like that. You have so much to offer and you've done a lot of good. Sometimes, you just have to learn to step back and now is that time."
"You're right," Casey sniffles. "You're absolutely right."
"Take care of yourself," Liz advises. "Get some rest and begin to heal. I know that you're hurting and angry. You need to let yourself breathe, Casey."
Casey wipes her tears and nods. "Thanks, Liz."
Liz nods and then Casey heads off.
/\/\/\/\/\/\
Ham and Mila walk into the crime lab, flashing their badges at the techs.
"I'm Agent Hamilton, this is Agent Fischer," Hamilton introduces. "Internal Affairs Bureau. What have you got on the Crane murder?"
O'Halleran regards the agents suspiciously.
"You here to jam one of our own up?" He asks. "Lake is a good cop."
"He very well may be," Mila says. "But right now, he's a prime suspect in a murder and we need the evidence to back it up. Now, tell us what you've got."
O'Halleran sighs and then goes over to the table. "I dusted the gun for prints, it was clean. The gun was wiped down, so that was a crap shoot. The bullet is at ballistics, but it should match the gun. It was Crane's own service weapon."
"So that's it?" Ham asks. "It's a damn good thing Lake confessed. We got nothing."
"Not necessarily," O'Halleran says. "It was completely muddy in that empty lot and there was some kind of main break. We found three sets of foot prints at the scene. Two pairs of shoes are male, one size thirteen and the other size twelve and a half. Look at the impressons on this set."
Ham and Mila look at the photo once it is handed to them. Mila furrows her eyebrows.
"That's a woman's heel," Mila observes. "With a label it looks like…Jimmy Choo, size six."
"Dammit," Ham huffs. "Now we got reasonable doubt…Tucker's going to be pissed."
"Maybe not," Mila says. "Could be from earlier in the day. What time did that water main break?"
"Uh, about six o'clock that evening," O'Halleran explains. "They had it under control by seven fifteen."
"That lot is a poplar spot on the hooker stroll," Mila says. "Maybe one of the pros went there for a little business before the murder."
"Nah, you're off on that theory," O'Halleran chuckles. "If it was hooker and John, there'd be a fourth set of foot impressions in the ground, and we didn't see any. And, the steps of whoever the wearer of those heels is took steps around Crane."
"What do you mean?" Mila asks.
"Look at this photo."
Ham inspects it. "Looks like Crane's footprints stayed stationary. So whoever this third guy-"
He pauses with Mila scowls at him.
"Gal," he corrects. "Is, she must have had a long talk with Crane."
"We can't interview every woman in New York with a pair of size six Jimmy Choos," Mila chuckles. "Because then I'd be a suspect."
"You own heels?"
"Shut up, Ham," Mila huffs.
"Onward to the ME's office," Ham sighs, not looking forward to seeing dead bodies.
He freely admits that he couldn't hack it in homicide when he was first promoted to detective in his late twenties. His weak constitution got in the way, and he decided that his time was better spent investigating and flushing out bad cops within the department because God knows that there were plenty of those in his own precinct. IAB had proved to be a rather cushy job for him, he mostly handles cops running drugs, cops growing their own personal marijuana stashes in abandoned lockers, or cops taking in a little extra illegal cash off the books, but he doesn't do dead bodies.
Mila, on the other hand, can handle anything. She has a gut and nerves of steel, and she can hang with the best of them. She busts his balls several times a day and he lets her because his twenty is fast approaching, and he's done trying to stick it out like a young buck. He's completely ready to retire and head to LA with his wife and children. He wants Mila to have a partner that will challenge her and bust her balls for a change because she needs it.
"Are you sure you want to go?" Mila asks as they head out of the lab. "You know how you get around dead bodies."
"I can take it," Ham sighs.
"Sure you can, big boy," Mila says as she pats his corpulent belly.
"So, we've got a third set of footprints at the crime scene, but there's no prints on the damn gun," Ham huffs as he navigates through the last legs of morning traffic. "We've got a confession from Lake, but that's going to be easy to shake, especially if he has a savvy defense lawyer."
Mila is staring straight ahead, her mind not even on the case.
"You know Luke left me the other night?" She says, and Ham furrows his eyebrows.
"Okay, what does that have to do with our case, Fischer?" Ham huffs. "Besides, your boyfriend was a shithead anyway.
Mila combs her fingers through her long, straight, black hair.
"He's not a shithead, okay?" Mila sighs. "I just can't believe he broke up with me."
"Well you'll get over it," Ham says. "Focus on the case, Mila. Look at the file."
Mila opens up the file and looks in it.
"Thomas Crane, over twenty years on the force," she reads. "He has dozens of excessive force and harrassment complaints logged in his jacket…he's divorced with one son, his ex-wife died two years ago from cancer."
"So, the question is, what was our mystery lady doing at the crime scene?" Ham asks. "Girlfriend?"
"Could be," Mila says. "Only his CO will be able to tell us that."
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
Mila and Ham make the forty five minute drive to the office of Melinda Warner, where she is hard at work carving away at Thomas Crane's dead body.
"Dr. Warner?" Mila asks as she and Ham walk in.
Melinda looks up from cutting open Crane's cranium and she sees two people with badges.
"How may I help you?" She asks.
"I'm Agent Fischer, this is Agent Hamilton from the Internal Affairs Bureau," Mila introduces.
"What's IAB doing investigating a homicide?" Melinda asks.
"Can you tell us the official cause of death?" Ham asks, completely ignoring Melinda's first question.
"Gunshot wound to the temple, it lodged in his brain, which I'm extracting now," Melinda says.
"Close range?" Mila asks.
"Yeah," Melinda says, looking between the two agents. "Can I get back to work now?"
"We have some more questions we'd like to ask you," Mila says. "Did you have anything to do with the controversy surrounding the lab reports on Crane's DNA?"
"Absolutely not," Melinda says indignantly. "I would never put my lab or this office in jeopardy."
"Did you inform Detective Lake about the disparities in the DNA?" Ham asks.
"No, I did not," Melinda says, turning on the saw again. "Now, if you don't mind, I have a cranium to open."
"Not at all," Ham says, looking for an excuse to bolt.
"Thanks for your time," Mila says.
"Okay, our next stop is the fugitive apprehension team," Ham says. "We need to ask the CO about Crane's personal life and try and figure out what woman he might have scorned."
Ham and Mila walk out to their car.
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
Casey is relieved to finally make it home and she immediately goes upstairs to her bedroom and plops onto her bed. She is completely exhausted mentally and physically, and the mattress under her feels so good. Her hands rest on her flat abdomen and she grins to herself. At least she has something good to look forward to, although she hates that her and Chester's and the baby's future is in jeopardy. Even from their graves, Kralik and Crane were still making life miserable for her and Chester in particular.
At least the bastards are dead, Casey thinks. We're strong enough to handle whatever else falls from this shit storm.
She thinks about what Judge Donnelly told her.
Take care of yourself.
She sits up in bed and combs her fingers through her hair. She doesn't know whether to be angry or really take Liz's advice and begin to consider using her situation to her advantage and taking a much needed break. But the thought completely scares her because it's been years since she's had a vacation, let alone taken a day off voluntarily. But she never minded because she loved her job and she needed to be present and available at all times. Of course, Liz has forced her hand in this, and she knows that McCoy will also take the same position on the matter.
A suspension is a career ender, and she knows that life will be difficult for the time in between until she can practice law again. That is if her license is suspended. A censure isn't as bad, she can still do her job, but it does look bad on her record, and she will have to convince her next employer that she will not make the same mistake twice.
She lays back down. All of that pales in comparison as to how much her life will change with a baby in tow. She doesn't want to raise her baby alone. And if worse comes to worse, if her license is suspended for more than just a year, if Chester really is guilty of murder, (though she steadfastly believes that he isn't) and is sent to prison, she will have to figure out what she will do that will support herself and her baby. She can do anything she sets her mind to, and she is confident that she will be able to find something else to do, but she won't be half as happy in a different career path because being a lawyer is what she is passionate about.
Casey bites her lower lip, trying not to cry again, but the tears come anyway.
The events of the last twenty four hours has triggered yet another symptom of her pregnancy: weepiness. Casey doesn't need this right now because she needs to be strong and get through the next few weeks ahead.
She looks over at the clock. It is about eleven o'clock, and she knows that by early evening, Chester will be on his way to Rikers to await his trial. Once he is processed, she won't be able to visit him until Saturday, per the regulations of the prison for friends and family to visit, and it is now Wednesday. She needs to see him before then, to try and convince him to shut up and get himself a lawyer, but now it is too late.
She hates to think it, but things would have been so much easier for them if they weren't in a relationship, but then that meant that she wouldn't be pregnant, and she loves her baby fiercely already. She otherwise wouldn't have been pregnant and she would have let the opportunity pass her by. There is a time for everything, and she knows that it is time for her to become a mother.
But then she thinks of the possibility that she might be alone in this again. She doesn't like to think about that, but it is slowly becoming a reality. She doesn't want that to be their reality.
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
"Thomas Crane was one of the best detectives on this team," Captain Joel Hoyt says as he puts a few files away in his file cabinet. "I hope that bastard Lake fries."
"Well, there may be a problem with that," Mila sighs. "We found a third set of footprints belonging to a woman with size six Jimmy Choo heels. Judging from the pattern of the footprints, we're thinking that this woman may have been known to Crane."
"Did Crane ever talk about his personal life?" Ham asks. "Did he have a girlfriend?"
"Not that I'm aware of," Hoyt shrugs. "After his divorce, he kind of gave up on the whole dating thing. Tommy…he was a private guy, good cop, kept to himself. He did talk about his son a lot. I can't tell you how much he loves that kid."
"He's close with his son?" Mila asks.
"Yeah, especially after his ex-wife died," Hoyt explains. "I don't know what he's going to do now without his father…the kid's kind of in a bad way."
"What's going on with him?" Ham asks.
"Gregory…he got addicted to gambling when his mother got sick," Hoyt sighs. "He was trying to get some money for the medical bills…Tommy gave his entire life savings to pay off the debt. A few months ago, Greg dug himself another hole, and Tommy didn't know what to do. There's no telling what Greg's going to do now without his father…Tommy was a good man. He didn't deserve this."
"Were you aware of any other aspects of Crane's personal life?" Mila asks.
"Are you trying to jam up Tommy from the grave?" Hoyt asks, offended. "Is this the new face of IAB now? Jammin' up good cops and dragging their names through the mud? Why are you here when you should be investigating Lake. It wouldn't surprise me if he had a few skeletons in his closet."
Mila sighs. "You are aware that Thomas Crane was involved in the rape of two young girls, one of which turned up dead?"
Joel sighs. "Yes, I'm aware of it, but he wasn't guilty. I knew that long before the jury. Crane didn't rape those girls. That girl was just lying to protect her status."
Ham sighs.
"Did you know about his friendship with Detective Edward Kralik?"
"Yeah, they came up together in the Bronx," Hoyt says. "They were life long friends, partners too."
"So didn't it strike you as odd that they both happen to be involved in a double rape and murder?" Ham asks.
"Look, alls I know is that Tommy would never do that," Hoyt says indignantly.
"Never mind attempting to kill Detective Lake when he was unarmed and had surrendered?" Mila asks.
"That was a mistake!" Hoyt shouts. "Get the hell out of my unit. Now. And believe me when I say I will be talking to your CO."
"You do that," Ham fires back. "And he'll tell you that Tommy Boy wasn't as squeaky clean as you make him out to be and he'll have your ass if he finds out that you had a hand in the attempted murder of Detective Chester Lake."
"Get out!" Hoyt yells.
The agents walk out of the office and the door slams behind them.
They head out of the squad room, that after receiving scornful gazes from the other members of the unit.
"Well, we got him shook up," Ham sighs as they get onto the elevator.
"I just get so sick of that Blue Line crap," Mila huffs. "Me personally, I think Lake did us all a public service. Even I knew Crane was guilty. I mean, innocent men don't try and take out the lead detective on a rape case…I mean c'mon."
"Either way, the system got him off," Ham says.
"Yeah, well," Mila sighs. "The system sucks. I mean, I know Justice is blind and all but…someone needs to lead that bitch in the right direction every once in a while."
Ham chuckles. "You're so eloquent, Fischer."
Mila smiles and shrugs. "You know you like it, Hamlet."