https://images.hive.blog/DQmejFGeHdtMp76CmrBvB3z7TUNp4x27RwyD9mhBpmN8kod/right-4944546_1280.jpg
[Pixabay](https://pixabay.com/photos/search/lawyer/)
When all doors closed, the lawyer of last resort came in. There they stand, briefcase worn, eyes exhausted but determined, when appeals run out, money runs out, hope hangs by the thinnest thread.
They take the cases no one else wants: the death row inmates, the wrongly convicted, the forgotten souls lost in the machinery of the system. Their offices smell of desperate coffee and desperation; the walls are covered with documents detailing human frailty and institutional failure.
Driven by something more than money, a stubborn conviction that justice shouldn't be a luxury item, these lawyers work for nearly nothing. Most of their cases are unwinnable; they are fighting against time, precedent, and public apathy. They know this.
Still, these keepers of last opportunities keep going. Since one has to believe in the unattainable. As the rest of the world has already moved on, someone has to stand in that last courtroom and mumble one more plea into the darkness.