The courtroom had that unnerving silence people usually associated with funerals, except here, the dead thing wasn’t a person. It was about trust, reputation and maybe even legacy.
Celeste sat at the plaintiff’s table, spine straight but not stiff. Damien was beside her, silent, unreadable except for the barely-there movement of his thumb against his jaw. That was how she knew he was grinding his teeth. She didn’t look at him. If she did, she’d start absorbing his tension, and she needed to stay focused.
The judge entered.
“All rise.” The court marshall announced.
They stood. Formalities began. Celeste barely heard them.
Veronica Hale was seated just across the room. White suit. Perfect hair. Red lipstick. Displaying a performance of innocence and control. But Celeste could see the cr
