The federal courthouse was a granite fortress in the heart of downtown Blackhaven. Adam had walked past it a hundred times, never once thinking he'd be inside. But here he was, sitting on a hard wooden bench, waiting to testify against the remnants of Cindy Vance's empire.
The gallery was packed. Reporters in the front row. Families of victims in the middle. Curious onlookers in the back. The air was thick with tension and the smell of old wood.
Lucia sat at the defense table, dressed in a simple blue blouse, her hands cuffed in her lap. Nina was in the row behind Adam, her face pale, her eyes fixed on her sister.
The judge entered. Everyone stood.
“United States of America versus Lucia Vasquez,” the clerk read. “Charges of conspiracy to commit human trafficking, kidnapping, and access
