7
Emily sighed for the twentieth time that hour. My fingers dug into the decorative couch pillow, ready to launch it across the room at her silver-blonde annoying head. She was doing it on purpose. Those dramatic sighs and the forlorn cast of her eyes out the window were an act. Who did she think she was fooling?
“What’s wrong, Emily?” Lil asked, patting Emily’s shoulder.
“I’m just worried about Brett,” she said, her voice sickly sweet.
Lil’s lips turned down. The worry on her face was evident. But she still patted Emily’s shoulder as if Emily had more right to worry than anyone.
“Brett knows how to take care of himself,” Lil said. “He’ll be just fine.”
“But what about the trial?” Emily insisted. “Will he be back for that? I can’t go to the courtroom with that evil woman if Brett’s n
