The shop was empty as usual. So I snuck to the side and lit my cigarette. I was puffing casually, with one eye on my mom. I didn’t want her to catch...me. I had reached halfway when the owner of the shop Mr. Singh came out of his cabin. He was a friendly man and wasn’t usually there, as my mom looked after the store alone. He came out and stood behind my mom. She was writing something and he was standing behind her and saying something to her. I was still very relaxed till Mr. Singh put his hands. Just sloughed it off and moved on. Sure, even the guilty are entitled to legal representation and their day in court, but why did it have to be me?Because my guy insisted he didn’t do it.Not at first. At first he was too busy bitching about “little miss Barbie doll” being assigned as his lawyer. “OK,” I told him, “if you want a guy, go get one of the ones who finished behind me in law school. I’m what you have, so get fucking used to it.”I didn’t ask him if he’d done it. You don’t ask a client. More

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