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TWO WEEKS LATER

LAST WEEK OF JULY, 2025

Molly paused as she felt the familiar kicking sensation in her stomach. In any other situation, she'd have found it endearing and sweet. But she was currently arguing a case in court and The Court was not known for endearing or sweet.

"Ms. Stanley, would you like a moment to collect yourself?" Judge Connelly asked, looking at her over her half-moon glasses.

Molly looked over at her client, Youssef Habir, and saw his slightly bewildered face. He was counting on her to ensure his asylum application went through. She gave him a weak smile and looked back at the judge, rubbing her stomach slowly.

"No, I - I'm fine, thank you, Your Honor," she cleared her throat. "As I was saying, Mr. Habir has been a model tenant at the Direct Provision center he has been staying at. He has a job working in the kitchens there. He has more than demonstrated his capability as a productive member of society."

"Ms. Stanley, it is not about Mr. Habir's productivity in society," the judge replied. "It is about the fact that he has not demonstrated sufficient need to claim asylum in the Republic of Ireland. The law clearly states that asylum is only granted to those cannot return to their homeland because doing so puts their lives at direct risk. Mr. Habir has not demonstrated that there is a substantial risk to his life if he returns to Tunisia. Therefore his application is denied."

Molly opened her mouth to say something but the judge continued.

"He will remain at the Direct Provision center until proper arrangements can be made for his return to Tunisia," she finished. "Mr. Habir, I wish you the best in your journey." She banged her gavel twice, signaling that the trial was over.

Youssef covered his face with his hands as a guard came to take him out of the court room.

"I'm sorry, Youssef. I really tried my best," Molly apologized. "But there just wasn't enough evidence. The judge was right."

The Arab man said nothing as he was led out of the court room. The loss hurt a bit and she felt like she'd let him down. But in truth, the judge was right. Youssef hadn't shown enough evidence to support his application. He wasn't a refugee.

Molly looked at her watch and cursed. She was supposed to have left for the appointment ten minutes prior. She stuffed her files back into her briefcase and tottered out of the court room on her stilettos as fast as she could, side-stepping several other solicitors with all the grace of a linebacker.

By the time she was pulling into the car park at her OB's office, she was already twenty minutes late and had declined two of Andrew's calls. She parked next to his SUV and got out. The receptionist looked up at her in surprise when she burst through the office doors.

"Hi, sorry I'm late," she said breathlessly. "Molly Stanley. I had an appointment with Dr. Sherbourne at four." A cramp had risen in her side and she winced as she leaned over the reception desk, still breathing heavily.

The receptionist blinked before snapping out of her surprised state and turning to the computer. "Right. Have a seat. I'll let dr. Sherbourne know you're here."

Molly nodded and turned and saw Andrew reading a magazine in a chair in the corner of the waiting room. He didn't look up when she sat next to him.

"You're late," he sighed.

"I got caught up in court. Sue me," she answered, kissing his cheek. She glanced at the title of the article he was reading. "Hemorrhoids and You. Listen, we can stop at the shop on the way home and get something for you, if you need it."

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