Abby calls USMLE about her boards results and finds out that the scores were sent to her at the hospital. Angrily, she stalks over to Frank and hisses at him about where her personal mail might be. "It would be filed alphabetically in the mail drawer with everyone else's crap," he says grouchily. "As if I didn't have enough to do." Yes, so much that he doesn't have time to inform anyone that there is a mail drawer.
A friendly-looking bespectacled chap arrives looking for Bill Macy. Abby leads him into Bill's room, where the guy introduces himself as Ed, a former student. "I had you for Algebra in '73 and '74," he beams. Bill Macy frowns at him until a light of recognition goes on in his brain. "I flunked you because you didn't follow the directions on your final," he realizes. Ed grins affectionately. Apparently he's a math teacher at Bill Macy's old school now. "Kinda karmic," he says. Bill Macy looks tickled. Ed says that someone from the hospital called the school to let everyone know about the situation, and Bill Macy immediately points a shaky finger of gratitude at Abby. She has her lips pursed in that horrible duck expression, which is supposed to be "Who, me?" innocence, but which makes her look like she secretly has webbed feet and belongs on a lake eating soggy bread crusts.
The judge at Weaver's hearing says she's reviewed all the testimony and needs a couple follow-up answers. She asks if the Lopez parents are retired and in good health; they are. Then she asks if Weaver has two dead parents and no siblings. Anyone wondering which way this judge is leaning? The judge says she'll render a verdict in a week, at which point Weaver decides to do what nobody should do in court, which is make an impromptu statement that actually has your lawyer cradling his head in his hands. "Your honor, I love my son," she begins. She charts the history of Henry's conception and points out that she cut the cord and was with Henry and Sandy for all the dirty diapers and the colicky nights, and they were a family regardless of whether the law of society deems them as such. "And we still are," she says passionately. Florina gulps. The Lopez who is holding Henry looks touched. The judge frostily says she'll let them know in a week, and we fade to black relieved to have been spared a trial but a little annoyed that the entire thing was used to paint Kerry as a saint and the Lopez family as evil baby thieves. If the story was in any way meant to be balanced, we'd have heard testimony and seen Florina crack a smile. There's no way to win, I guess. Either we sit through boring court scenes, or we get Good vs. Evil.
Sam leaves to load up the car, so Alex sneaks over to the phone and calls Luka. At least the kid has good taste -- for a second I thought he was going to ring up Steve, and I'd have been forced to choke on some fury. "Could you come over? My mom's freaking out..." Alex says desperately. Sam catches him; the next thing we see is Luka listening confusedly as the line goes dead.