“All rise,” the elderly bailiff intoned. “The honorable Judge Marlow Jones is now presiding.”
Chase stood, and from the rustling around him, he could hear Shelby, Shane, Pastor Wilson and his wife doing the same. A small entourage of support between his wife and her greatest fear.
He hated being in this room, with its open circle of pale wooden benches, its matching paneled walls, its two black tables at the front and the judge’s messy desk facing the room. It looked like a large and fancy coffin. It brought up in his mind the most horrible memories.
Baylee"s shoulders clenched. He could see it from the row in front of him, reminding him why he was here. This time, his appearance in court had little to do with him and everything to do with his lovely, fragile wife and her son. On the wa
