Courtroom Number One | Day Two, 9:45 AM
The rain from the night before had left the courtroom windows streaked, distorting the outside world into watery impressions. Stella sat in the same third-row seat, but today she wore a different suit—a deep navy that felt less like armor, more like a professional uniform. Today was her day.
Sir James Morris called her name. She stood, walked the twenty-three steps to the witness box. The wood of the stand was worn smooth by generations of hands. She placed hers where others had, took the oath, and looked at the jury. Not at her mother. Not yet.
"Ms. Shen," Sir James began, his voice gentler than yesterday. "You are the daughter of the defendant."
"Yes."
"And you are also a lawyer."
"Yes. Specializing in non-contentious financial law."
"You we
