The courthouse was already surrounded by cameras long before the hearing began. News vans lined the street, reporters speaking with urgent excitement, photographers adjusting their lenses for the perfect angle.
People gathered in clusters, whispering about the case that had set the city on fire — the battle for Daniel Striker.
Inside the car pulling into the restricted court parking lot, Sarah sat quietly beside Barrister Nicolas. She looked calm, almost regal, dressed in a fitted black suit that carried her authority effortlessly.
But beneath the surface, her heart beat with a mother’s fear — a fear she refused to let anyone see.
As the driver parked, Nicolas turned to her suddenly, as though a thought had just landed sharply on his mind. “Madam, are we not forgetting something?”
S
