“We need to look at every single loophole in the evidence,” Mr. Davis says with a heavy voice.
“If we don’t pick every single thing apart, we’ll be shooting ourselves in the foot for tomorrow.”
I feel my insides start to boil with panic. My foot won’t stop tapping under the large table and my fingers keep twisting my necklace.
“I’m not trying to scare us,” he continues, “but we need every detail studied. We don’t win a case like this just by having monstrous evidence against Adam Hilton.”
Hunter's pacing slowly behind my chair. Ms. Croft is typing on her laptop.
I haven’t spoken since we got here. I just sit and watch them pull my life apart, trying to find more proof.
“In fact,” Mr. Davis says, looking right at Hunter, “we’re not fighting Mr. Hilton. We are up against Leo Thatcher
