It’s ten o’clock on a Friday night. I am sitting with my two classmates in the Yale Law School Library. They aren’t too happy about being here; it’s the weekend, after all—there are plenty of other fun things they could be doing. But I am determined that we hold our small-group meeting. We have a memo assignment; we have to do it, have to finish it, have to produce it, have to … Wait a minute. No, wait. “Memos are visitations,” I announce. “They make certain points. The point is on your head. Have you ever killed anyone?”
