J.D. from Harvard Law School in 2011, and is definitely interested in Ms. Kideare, romantically, that is, because he never, ever stops talking to Mr. Brice about it, weirdly. He cares about soccer too much and is a member of the state bar of New York.
RACHEL COSTA, STAFF ATTORNEY
Rachel Costa became a staff attorney at the New Salem Institute in the fall of 2012 after serving as a legal intern during the summer of 2011. She earned her B.A. in Art History from Wellesley College in 2009 and her J.D. from Northwestern University Law School in 2012, and is admitted to the state bar of New York. Ms. Costa is a warm, thoughtful person, and really quite striking, which is a fact that has already touched down, softly, somewhere in Mr. Briceâs vasculature.
BOOTS ROSENBAUM, STAFF ATTORNEY
Boots Rosenbaum joined the New Salem Institute in the fall of 2012, and is one of the very few people whom Mr. Brice trusts at this point. He didnât flinch when the walls caved in around Mr. Briceâs head; he stuck around to help clear the rubble, and that meant a great deal. Mr. Brice hadnât ever had a friend like that before, one who could be counted on in a crisis. Mr. Rosenbaum received his B.A. in English and Music from New York University in 2004, and also graduated from a prestigious law school in 2012.
LEO BRICE, STAFF ATTORNEY
Leo Brice is some sort of a kind snob. Heâs been a real mess since Fiona left him for that vacuous prick. Heâs a lawyer, incidentally, and while he thinks he could become passionately invested in this sort of work, itâs difficult for him to concentrate on the deaths of others right now, while his is still so fresh. What went wrong? He runs it back, daily, even now, months later, and will for some time. Just the other night, unsleeping like all others, he reached for a bookâsomething dusty, something dry enough to anesthetizeâand carelessly flipped to the inscription she had scrawled inside of the cover not ten months prior: âI love you more and more each day, my Dearest Friend. xoxo, F.â This was The Collected Letters of John and Abigail Adams , once a birthday present, now another chalky half-column scattered among the ruins of their vast romantic empire. Listen to him prattle on! She wasnât so great, dammit. Once you go, you donât get to be great anymoreâshe forfeited the right to keep the all-bright things about her. If you run off, you canât be so smart, and you canât be very funny, you cannot be wry or vulnerable. If you donât exist, you canât be anything at all. Listen to this utter garbage! This is at once the end of the world, and not.
How utterly goddamn silly.
Â
THREE
Y OU LIVE YOUR WHOLE LIFE AS THOUGH it were an ongoing story, but when someone leaves, here is what happens: you wake up the next morning, and all of a sudden you are an epilogue. I dragged myself wrackful through the same environment Iâd always known, but absent Fiona those first days seemed to be little more than a ghostly and meaningless afterword, past pluperfect where a present tense ought to be. I remember thinking about God for the first time in agesâI hadnât really bought into growing up (not much, anyway), but I came around to the idea not long after I met her. I just couldnât believe that a rudderless universe would have allowed us to come together like that. I had no doubt, none at all, that our little confluence had been preordained by the Holy Whatever; when I found her, it was so much like finding the lock the key fitâat last, at last. Fiona was gone, and I still believed in God, only now I understood that She is a monster.
Fifty-six days were lost that summer to the New York State Bar Examination, and this thing happened on day fifty-eight, the second-cheapest champagne from the liquor store not yet dry on the loveseat. Boots and I werenât starting work at New Salem until halfway through September,
RACHEL COSTA, STAFF ATTORNEY
Rachel Costa became a staff attorney at the New Salem Institute in the fall of 2012 after serving as a legal intern during the summer of 2011. She earned her B.A. in Art History from Wellesley College in 2009 and her J.D. from Northwestern University Law School in 2012, and is admitted to the state bar of New York. Ms. Costa is a warm, thoughtful person, and really quite striking, which is a fact that has already touched down, softly, somewhere in Mr. Briceâs vasculature.
BOOTS ROSENBAUM, STAFF ATTORNEY
Boots Rosenbaum joined the New Salem Institute in the fall of 2012, and is one of the very few people whom Mr. Brice trusts at this point. He didnât flinch when the walls caved in around Mr. Briceâs head; he stuck around to help clear the rubble, and that meant a great deal. Mr. Brice hadnât ever had a friend like that before, one who could be counted on in a crisis. Mr. Rosenbaum received his B.A. in English and Music from New York University in 2004, and also graduated from a prestigious law school in 2012.
LEO BRICE, STAFF ATTORNEY
Leo Brice is some sort of a kind snob. Heâs been a real mess since Fiona left him for that vacuous prick. Heâs a lawyer, incidentally, and while he thinks he could become passionately invested in this sort of work, itâs difficult for him to concentrate on the deaths of others right now, while his is still so fresh. What went wrong? He runs it back, daily, even now, months later, and will for some time. Just the other night, unsleeping like all others, he reached for a bookâsomething dusty, something dry enough to anesthetizeâand carelessly flipped to the inscription she had scrawled inside of the cover not ten months prior: âI love you more and more each day, my Dearest Friend. xoxo, F.â This was The Collected Letters of John and Abigail Adams , once a birthday present, now another chalky half-column scattered among the ruins of their vast romantic empire. Listen to him prattle on! She wasnât so great, dammit. Once you go, you donât get to be great anymoreâshe forfeited the right to keep the all-bright things about her. If you run off, you canât be so smart, and you canât be very funny, you cannot be wry or vulnerable. If you donât exist, you canât be anything at all. Listen to this utter garbage! This is at once the end of the world, and not.
How utterly goddamn silly.
Â
THREE
Y OU LIVE YOUR WHOLE LIFE AS THOUGH it were an ongoing story, but when someone leaves, here is what happens: you wake up the next morning, and all of a sudden you are an epilogue. I dragged myself wrackful through the same environment Iâd always known, but absent Fiona those first days seemed to be little more than a ghostly and meaningless afterword, past pluperfect where a present tense ought to be. I remember thinking about God for the first time in agesâI hadnât really bought into growing up (not much, anyway), but I came around to the idea not long after I met her. I just couldnât believe that a rudderless universe would have allowed us to come together like that. I had no doubt, none at all, that our little confluence had been preordained by the Holy Whatever; when I found her, it was so much like finding the lock the key fitâat last, at last. Fiona was gone, and I still believed in God, only now I understood that She is a monster.
Fifty-six days were lost that summer to the New York State Bar Examination, and this thing happened on day fifty-eight, the second-cheapest champagne from the liquor store not yet dry on the loveseat. Boots and I werenât starting work at New Salem until halfway through September,
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