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“Don’t Come—Your Sister’s Boyfriend Is a Judge,” My Dad Texted—Monday Morning, He Learned Who Really Was

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with windows overlooking Foley Square. My name was on the door in brass letters: Hon. Alexandra Martinez, United States District Judge.

I’d been on the bench for six weeks, but I still felt a quiet thrill every time I saw it.

My law clerk, Michael, knocked and stuck his head in. “Your nine-thirty conference is here, Judge. Martinez v. Castellano, the continue reading …

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