Thora’s POV
By the time I got on to the steps of the courthouse the air was already buzzing. Sidestreet reporters were lined up, and the microphones looked like guns. Flashes of the camera were so brilliant that they blurred the morning into a white haze.
“Ms. Greenwood, do you think you’re losing?”
“Any comment on your witnesses backing out?”
“ Do you fear meeting Quentin Palmer in court?
Their voices mangled on one, ugly note. I kept walking. Eyes forward. Clenching my hands on the folder which contained the rest of my evidence.
The courthouse was dusty and paper-smoking. My heartbeat was drowned in the humming of the fluorescent lights. At the metal detector, I was met by my lawyer, Cara, who was sharp, but kind.
“You ready?” she asked.
“No,” I said honestly.
She smiled fai
