The case file that stayed closed

I finally filed the last of the old case folders—paper, not digital, because the court still insists on physical. One had a red rubber band around it, tied tight. I didn’t open it. I just sat with it for a minute. The client’s name was still in the margin, but the case number had been crossed out. I remember the trial, the jury, the way the judge looked at me when I said ‘no further questions.’ I didn’t win. But I don’t think I lost either. Just… stopped. That folder wasn’t about guilt or innocence. It was about what happens when you say ‘I’ll do my best’ and the world says, ‘that’s enough.’