Souvenir - Chapter 2.3

This country has given me certainty.

And I live each day with that truth.

After graduating from the same law school as my father, I spent a year working at a major law firm. One of my colleagues from law school and later my business partner and closest friend, Alex Jacobs, was a graduate of an elite institution known for its prestigious business school.

Together with Alex and three other colleagues from the same firm, we founded an independent law office under a joint partnership, each of us specializing in different areas of law.

While working at the firm, Alex and I frequently discussed our future ambitions. We both envisioned a smaller, close-knit office where we could apply our expertise in a more personal setting. For Alex, the biggest perk of running our own firm was the chance to say goodbye to the stiff formality of suits—he despised them. In contrast to me, he loathed business attire.

However, launching a practice alone required more capital than he could afford. He approached me first, and together we began drafting a plan. Word quickly spread among our colleagues, and a few expressed interest in joining us. Eventually, even our boss at the firm got wind of our intentions.

Surprisingly, instead of opposing our departure, the firm offered to support us. On the condition that our new office function as an affiliate, prioritizing case referrals and collaborations, they provided funding and handled much of the administrative groundwork.

With everything in place, we signed the contract, leasing a building where we could each have our own practice while working under the same umbrella. That was the beginning of the law office where I work today.

Each floor of our office is dedicated to a specialized field of law. My practice is situated in the mid-level floors, focusing on immigration law, particularly cases involving Asian immigrants.

As for Alex, he got exactly what he wanted—his office is on the upper floors, and unless he has a critical appointment, he rarely bothers with formal wear.

—

I specialize in immigration law, assisting not only U.S. citizens but also a large number of Asian immigrants.

My team consists of three staff members, including a rotating secretary, and our entire office is made up of about twenty people—small, but efficient.

Whenever challenges arise, I collaborate with Alex, my colleagues, and my staff, maintaining a supportive, family-like atmosphere. The office itself, designed with a modern aesthetic, deliberately avoids the cold, sterile feel of traditional law firms. This welcoming environment has been well-received by both clients and visiting attorneys alike.

Unlike firms that handle high-profile corporate lawsuits, our clientele consists mostly of upper-middle-class families, private investors, and small business owners. Many of our cases come as referrals from my former firm.

As part of my pro bono work, I volunteer two to three times a month at community centers and immigration offices, providing free legal consultations. This work is deeply fulfilling.

—

Before I met you, my life was monotonous—void of excitement or purpose.

But you awakened something within me.

Sometimes, when I’m with you, memories of my mother resurface.

Perhaps, in her own way, she, too, had been trapped—unable to escape someone’s control.

That’s why I wanted to protect you.

But was it really for your sake?

Or was it simply my own form of redemption?

—

As a lawyer, people often assume my work is full of dramatic courtroom battles, like in TV shows.

The truth is far from that.

I rarely handle criminal trials or corporate disputes.

Most of my work involves drafting documents in my office or meeting clients over lunch.

Although I do visit courtrooms, it’s usually just to submit or collect paperwork. Occasionally, I sit in on hearings related to my cases, but never as a key player in high-stakes litigation.

—

Today will be no different.

The morning is filled with document preparation and a results meeting, followed by lunch with a potential client.

It’s a routine, uneventful life.

And yet, I am grateful for its continuity.