Meanwhile, Joanna Hendon, a lawyer hired by Trump two days earlier, addressed the court on her new client’s behalf. She asked Judge Wood for more time, too, arguing that she needed to get up to speed. “Those searches have been executed, and the evidence is locked down,” Hendon said in court. “I’m not trying to delay,” she continued. “I’m just trying to ensure that it’s done scrupulously.” Her client, who she punctiliously noted was the president of the United States, had an acute interest in these proceedings. “Ultimately,” she said, “this is of most concern to him.” As the session adjourned, Judge Wood granted Harrison until Monday to come up with a client list and ordered him to appear alongside Cohen for another hearing on Monday.

Cohen’s week ahead may simply prove to be more agonizing. The raids on his residences and office have since become the biggest story in the media—outshining, somehow, the administration’s Syrian air strike on Friday night, and James Comey’s media tour. Trump’s own interest in the affair escalated throughout the week, in typically Chernobyl-esque fashion. On Monday afternoon, directly following news of the raids, Trump called it a “disgraceful situation” during a meeting with military commanders ostensibly about how to handle the Syria quagmire. By Friday, The New York Times reported that Trump had called Cohen to check in. That evening, McClatchy issued a report suggesting that Mueller had evidence that Cohen had been in Prague in the summer of 2016, as noted in the unverified Steele dossier. (Cohen subsequently denied this.) The Times also reported that Trump now viewed the Cohen Inquiry as a greater threat than the Mueller probe itself.

As much as the raid has spooked President Trump, and in contrast to the breezy, cigar-smoking images portrayed, it has also weighed heavily on Cohen. In the days since the raid, according to two people familiar with his thinking, Cohen has grappled with the seriousness of his legal situation and the impact it has had on his family, and the fallout that may follow in the weeks, months, and perhaps years to come. These people explained that Cohen feels as though he is a means to an end—as “collateral damage” and a “disposable” element being used to get to his old boss.

Cohen, according to these people, has vacillated between this new level of exasperation and his typical Trumpian chest-beating manner. He has suggested to people close to him that perhaps he should act as his own attorney, because he may be the most apt person to defend himself. He has expressed anger at the lack of outrage over the fact that his legal office and private residences were searched when he says he was willing to cooperate with any subpoenas. “Where is the A.C.L.U?” he has said; at times, he has jokingly asked whether there is going to be a “Million Michael March”—a reference to the renowned 1995 African-American display of unity—to retrieve his documents. Cohen, according to these people, has also been dismayed by the silence from Trump’s inner circle in Washington, many of whom he expected would have his back. One person familiar with his thinking said that he’s gotten messages from thousands of people since last Monday, but “it’s been a ghost town from D.C.,” other than from the president.

Whatever relative calm Cohen was hanging on to at Freds or outside the Regency will be harder to muster come Monday afternoon. Cohen is due to present the court with a client list in order for Judge Wood to determine whether she will grant him the temporary restraining order. He will also face what seems like a deliberate test of his will in the form of Stormy Daniels, who is expected to be in attendance. On Sunday, her attorney, Michael Avenatti, said on CNN that he got “comfortable with the security plan last night for my client,” and that she plans to attend the hearing. “I think Monday afternoon could prove to be very interesting,” he said. (On Friday, the three rows of press erupted into whispers when Avenatti walked into court. “What is he doing here?” one reporter asked. “How many times is he going to be on TV after this one?” another joked. Avenatti addressed the court twice—first, asking to be heard because the information impacted his client, and second, to offer his insight on a matter prosecutors and Cohen’s attorneys were debating. He gave a statement to TV cameras outside afterward.)

Withstanding the hearing is only the beginning of what could be an ugly legal situation for Cohen. No charges have been filed against him, but prosecutors asserted that he is under criminal investigation. Cohen, who professes a devout fealty to his boss, has spent more than a decade working alongside the Trumps, devoting his professional life to protecting them. He may now be in a position where he could be forced to choose between continuing that line of defense, or putting himself and his own family first. In my interviews with Cohen, he has always stated plainly, repeatedly, and in a Godfather-esque lingua franca, how unfailingly loyal he is to the president and the Trump family. Over the summer, Cohen told me that he would take a bullet for Trump. In February, as the Stormy Daniels controversy heated up, he told me that he would do it again today for Trump and again for him tomorrow. “No question,” he said. Last month, he told me that it was his job to protect his client—his friend—and the Trump family.