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Brady said, “Can’t, Yuki I’ve got soet dinner without me”

“Again? Okay Wake et home”

He said he would

Yuki finished the dregs of cold Earl Grey, shut off her computer, and headed out She passed Parisi’s office and waved to hi down to the lobby, her head was back in her case

She was thinking about Art Baron’s story of sexual abuse and was glad that he had asked to be second chair He was going to be a great number two

Yuki passed through the iarnet-marble lobby and out the front door that opened onto Bryant across from Boardman Place She was hit with a cold wind that had not been there when she’d stepped out to get a sandwich at lunch She buttoned her coat, took a scarf from her pocket, and wound it around her neck

As she walked down the steps to Bryant, she saw a group of woathered at the base of the staircase They, too, were being buffeted by the wind, hair bloildly, hands in pockets—then one of the wonized Yuki

She pointed and called out, “Yuki Castellano What the hell is wrong with you, Yuki? You’re betraying your own sex”

Yuki kept ondown the steps Her car was in the lot across the street And then the wo her way

“Marc Christopher is twisted and a liar,” said another of the wo woman, a woman like you She made him have sex with her? Give me a break”

Yuki stopped in front of the group of seven angry women ere determined to confront her

“I e could talk about this,” Yuki said She was co a couple of reasonable sentences—that she couldn’t comment on the case, that Marc Christopher deserved his day in court—when a ed down the steps

“Yuki,” her husband said with authority “I’ll walk you to your car”

He said to the wo ADA Castellano, bordering on assault You’re blocking a public area Hear me?”

Brady took Yuki’s arm and walked her across the street