“She can’t actually win this. Can she?”
Bianca’s voice was hoarse, worn thin from a night with almost no sleep, sitting across from her lawyer’s desk with Kemi rigid in the chair beside her. Ethan stood by the window, arms crossed, having refused to leave despite Bianca telling him twice he didn’t have to be here for this part.
“She can’t win it,” the lawyer said carefully, sliding a folder across the desk. “But she can delay things. Force a hearing. Make you sit in a courtroom answering questions about your fitness as a mother while a woman who stalked your daughter’s bedroom window gets to sit there looking composed and reasonable.”
“That’s not justice.”
“No,” the lawyer agreed. “It’s procedure. And procedure doesn’t care whether the accusation is true. It only cares whether it’s fil
