Steve writes about this cheap lawyer trick Petrocelli pulled in court: Before everyone left after a half-day session, she passed around the photos again, making sure everyone would remember their nastiness for the rest of the day.
Steve hates those photos, and he tries to shove them from his head. He keeps thinking about Mr. Nesbitt—what those last moments must have been like: his dying moments, while Steve was strolling down the street.
Back in the slammer, Steve joins the orange jumpsuit cleaning brigade. He realizes he looks just like all the other jailbird moppers, which causes him to almost toss his cookies.
He can't believe he ever wanted to be like his thuggie friends, especially when O'Brien's whole case hangs on whether or not she can prove that Steve is not like them.