The grand courtroom was built to intimidate. Marble pillars framed the judge’s bench, and the polished floor echoed every footstep like a metronome of tension. Serena stood in the center aisle, dressed in a tailored charcoal suit, her fingers laced behind her back as the murmur of voices rolled across the gallery.
Behind her, cameras whirred into place. The trial was open by her request. If Cruz wanted to hide behind the gleam of charm and doctored records, she would strip it all under the gaze of the public eye.
She had prepared for this.
But something in her chest twisted anyway.
“Serena Vale, lead attorney,” the bailiff announced. “Cruz R., charged with conspiracy to commit fraud, evidence tampering, and negligent manslaughter pending investigation.”
Cruz stepped through the double
