“Well,” Toni said after a long sigh, “it was in my second year, toward the end. Everything had gone along so well. I had a great job lined up for the summer. I was going to be editor-in-chief of the Law Review. There was even a chance” – Toni gave a small laugh – “that I might be number one in my class. I was neck and neck with a guy named Harold Rose, and I was determined, boy. I wanted that.”

She looked down at her hands, still stretching her skin as if trying to pull some comfort from them. Helen put her hand on Toni’s, patted them.

“Anyway,” Toni said, “I was going home one night from a long stint at the library, walking across campus. I guess I was stupid. Why did I have to go around by the athletic field? It was a straight shot to my apartment by way of the student union.”

She paused, took a deep breath, continued. “He was waiting in the doorway of the women’s locker room. I tried to run the other way. But he got me.”

Now Millie started to see. Not only what Toni was going to describe about that night, but also the effects. It was beginning to be very clear why Helen and Levering wanted Millie to hear this. She thought of stopping everything right then, but could not bring herself to interrupt the woman’s story.

“He was strong,” Toni said. “Massively strong. He got tape over my mouth without any problem and carried me like a sack of laundry to the grassy strip between the gym and locker room. And that’s where it happened. That’s where he raped me.”

Millie swallowed hard, caught between empathy and incipient anger.

“Sure enough I got pregnant,” Toni said. “Sure enough they never caught the guy. That didn’t matter. What mattered was now everything I had worked for and hoped for was going to be torn down. There was no way I could carry a baby to term. But I knew I wouldn’t have to.”

Toni looked at Millie with large, watery eyes. “I knew that because of your principles,” Toni said, “that a woman’s right to choose was safe and strong. I found myself going back and reading your opinion in the Messier case, where you so eloquently defended Roe v. Wade, because of how far our country has evolved in morality and ethics since that time. When I went in for my procedure, I was actually happy.”

A creeping sensation wound its way up Millie’s spine, like curling fingers pushing and pulling at her.

“And that’s my story,” Toni said.

“Thank you,” Helen said.

Millie said nothing, but felt like Helen and Levering were waiting for her to respond. Give Toni a Thanks for sharing or something, and then a Thanks for setting me straight.

Instead, Millie put her own hand on Toni’s. The woman looked at her expectantly. “Ms. Ridge,” Millie said, “I know this must have been hard for you.”

“I just wanted you to know,” Toni said. “Helen said I…” She stopped suddenly.

Millie leaned back. “Yes, what was it Helen said?”

Toni Ridge looked as if she’d been caught stealing files from her law firm. Helen Forbes Kensington looked at the grass.

“I think it’s time somebody told me what’s really going on,” Millie said.

Levering threw up his hands. “I agree. Let’s go.”

7

“Listen,” Sam Levering said. “This whole thing has gone far enough. You want to stay on the Court, you make a pledge right now.”

They were in the limo heading back to the Court building. Helen sat silently by, looking out the window.

Millie fought hard to keep from throwing something – a decanter of booze from the bar would be fitting – at the senator’s face. “How dare you,” she said.

“Oh, please,” Levering said. “Spare me your outrage. You’ve got a decision to make right now. I’m not gonna sit around while you mess up the Court.”

Mess up! Getting a lecture on messing up from Sam Levering was too much to bear. Oh, God, what do I say?

Helen turned toward her. “Millie, what the senator and I are trying to do is help you remember what it is we’ve been fighting for all these years, for the right of women – ”

“Stop,” Millie said. “I don’t want to hear it. Helen, how could you?”

“I’ll tell you how,” Levering said. “The fundamentalists are shouting hosannas about your conversion. Or haven’t you heard? They’re already writing Roe off the books.”

“How can either of you think I’d listen to any outside influence?” Millie’s heart was making its way to her throat, pounding with outrage. “Including yours?”

Helen sighed. “Millie – ”

“Hold it,” Levering snapped. “Just hold it now and let me do the talking.” His face swiveled toward Millie. “Let’s cut to the chase, shall we? Here is the way it is. You will check with me on the big votes, the big cases, from now on. I will tell you what to do.”

Millie’s hands curled in on themselves, her nails pressing flesh. “Are you insane?”

“Been called a lot of things in my time. Insane is pretty tame.”

“I would never,” Millie said, pausing to choose her words carefully, “ever consider compromising the workings of the Court, or my own independence, for anyone, let alone you. You are a United States senator with an oath of office. How do you look at yourself in the morning?”

“With these eyes,” Levering said, passing his fingers in front of his face. “I can see things, you know. I can see the future. Want me to tell you yours?”

Anger kept Millie’s mouth closed while she waited.

“You refuse to take my direction,” Levering continued, “and I walk over to the House and get a little investigation going. Impeachment, Madame Justice.” He drew the last word out so it sounded like Just-ess.

He was insane. Threatening impeachment as a form of extortion? Right here in his own limousine, with Helen sitting in silence, without protest.

“You can’t possibly succeed with an impeachment,” she said. “The country won’t stand for it. Congress won’t stand for it.”

“Don’t you remember what Bierce said? The Congress is a masquerade of principles, Madame Justice, and I can manipulate that particular masquerade.”

“You have no grounds for impeachment.”

Levering’s smile was sickening. “You have no idea.” He leaned forward, raising a warning finger. “This is a promise. You give me your answer by tomorrow. You don’t, and I will rain fire and brimstone on you. And you can take that to the bank, Saint Millicent Mannings Hollander.”

8

Millie’s head was practically bursting with anger when she got to Bill Bonassi’s house. Night was hovering over D.C. and several times she thought she’d faint in the taxi. The world was spinning out of control, out of the realm of reality. She needed Bonassi’s counsel now.

They met in his study as Dorothy went to brew some tea. The room was primarily floor-to-ceiling bookcases, the Old Lion’s den.

“Tell me about it,” he said.

She managed to tell him everything without breaking down. He sat, listening patiently, not interrupting her once.

When she finished Bonassi took a long pause before answering. “Mark Twain said there is no distinctly American criminal class, except Congress.”

It was the right comment, lightening the pressure just a bit.

Millie blurted, “I never thought I’d be in a position like this. What do I do?”

“Get a lawyer,” Bonassi said.

“Do you know anyone?”

Bill Bonassi raised his hand. “Why not let me take a crack at it?” he said.

“You?”

“Dottie says I’m spending too much time with my garden. I’m driving her nutty.”

“But I couldn’t ask you…”

“You don’t have to,” Bonassi said. “I’m signing up. Pro bono publico. We can’t let the Leverings of this world spread their poison, not on the steps of the Court. I want in, Millie, if you’ll have me.”

Now there were definite tears in her eyes, and she didn’t stop them. “Thank you. I don’t know what else to say.”