Run Away If You Can

Bitter as it is, I have to accept reality. Compared to Nathaniel Miller, I’m just a small-town prosecutor—of course it was absurd to expect blind trust and wholehearted support. It’s only natural the family made their choice. In fact, theirs may be the wiser choice. Ultimately, I have only one reasonable option left.
To get as much as I can.
Coldly considered, it’s a rational conclusion. The Chief Prosecutor’s invitation to that party probably sprang from guilt or something similar—more than he owed a subordinate.
He’s genuinely a good man. Fair-minded yet not completely without savvy, which made him easy to work with—though I never expected him to use that savvy like this.
That he still sees potential in me and offers a chance is good. If I can push aside my foul mood, it might yield a positive outcome. After all, whatever happens, the important thing is Davis is punished in Mrs. Smith’s eyes.
I exhaled a long plume of smoke in a sigh. Remembering the Chief’s words, I knew he would give me the weekend off. Of course, I had no intention of attending the party. I’d hole up in bed, read, and sleep. And bury this defeat.
As I dwelt on that, a knock sounded and the door opened. Carefully, the assistant prosecutor set a cup of coffee on my desk, then greeted me.
“Thank you.”
She gave me a warm smile but didn’t leave. Having regained some composure, I summed up tersely,
“Mrs. Smith didn’t want a trial, so we’re going the plea negotiation route. That’s also what the Chief Prosecutor wants, so we have no choice but to secure the best terms possible.”
“I see…”
At last she nodded.
“It can’t be helped. It was a long shot from the start… Ah, not that it reflects on your skill, it’s just most cases end in plea deals. Going to trial is always a tough decision.”
She rushed to add that, and I replied with a flat “Yes,” as though I already knew. Hearing it from someone else didn’t change my mood.
I thought she would leave once her questions were answered, but she lingered awkwardly as if something else was on her mind. I suppressed a sigh, forced a smile, and looked up.

“What is it?”
“Well…”
Her face brightened as if she’d been waiting for this moment.
“That party—you see, I’ve heard about it.”
Surprised, I just blinked. She blushed slightly and leaned in to whisper.
“They say it’s full of top legal figures and socially powerful people. Former judges in government, political heavyweights—you name it. If you gain entry there, your career path clears ahead of you. It’s a fast track to success.”
She leaned even closer, eyes shining.
“You’re going, right?”
Her certainty made me force a wry smile.
“I’m not used to those kinds of gatherings…”
“What do you mean!”
Before I could finish, she raised her voice, hands on her hips, eyes serious.
“You do realize how important it is? Think carefully—if the Chief Prosecutor personally invited you, it’s so you can make an impression on those people. What does that mean? When he retires, it’ll be your turn to step up!”
She swept her arms wide as if performing a play—but I disagreed.
“It’s too early to think that far ahead.”
I spoke coolly to calm her excitement.
“The Chief isn’t retiring anytime soon…”
“My goodness—so you’re not going!”
She cut me off with a shriek, slamming her hands down on the desk and leaning forward to fire off her words.
“All the other prosecutors are dying to go! You have no ambition at all. This isn’t the time for a casual ‘maybe next time.’ Are you going to end your career buried in paperwork? You need to set your sights higher! How long will you chase trials and stay chained to your desk?”
“Someone’s got to do it.”
“Prosecutor!”
She leaned back in her chair, wearing a stern expression I’d never seen before, and delivered her warning.
“I’m dead serious. I’m telling you—it’s time you face reality.”
I already understood her point perfectly well. Old enough to have grandkids, she’d worked at the courthouse long before me and knew its politics inside out. Of course she was frustrated—I could see the path to advancement so clearly, yet she thought I wasn’t following it.
But what could I do if I didn’t want it?
I gave her a wry half-smile. Whether from lack of guile or sheer cluelessness, I simply couldn’t play the games required to flatter people’s egos. I couldn’t spin shallow compliments like Doug, nor did I have that kind of charm. Luckily, I also didn’t crave promotion fiercely. Had I harbored such ill-suited ambition, I’d be miserable. Thankfully, I was content with what I had and the present moment. So I had no urge to act the clown at a place where I didn’t belong. Of course, the assistant prosecutor thought the exact opposite.
“You must go, Prosecutor. This opportunity may never come again.”
“I appreciate your sentiment, but…”
“Honestly, when you chose trial over negotiation, the other prosecutors weren’t happy.”
I was about to refuse again when she surprised me with that.
I paused, and she continued solemnly.
“They said you should have been more tactful and secured a deal. If the plea had closed easily, fine—now that Nathaniel Miller has personally stepped in, what will you do? They say if we lose such a clear-cut case, our entire office’s reputation is shot. It’s ❀ Nоvеlігht ❀ (Don’t copy, read here) been a huge uproar. Not that you’d know.”
“Huh.”
I let out a hollow chuckle. She still glared down at me, but I had nothing more to say.
“It’s fine. Let them gossip behind my back—I don’t mind…”