31 NoraFrom her spot at the sturdy oak counsel table, Nora heard throat clearing, muffled coughs, and the rustle of fabric as the spectators behind her squirmed in their seats.
They were acting as restless as she felt, waiting for the moon-faced, bespectacled judge to stop reading the case background aloud and start telling them what he thought.
She shifted in her padded leather office chair and felt Channing’s elbow dig into her right side. Like a mother, her pal was warning her not to fidget while the judge was talking. Man, it was hard to make herself sit still. Probably tougher for the spectators.
She’d seen them when she came in, fifty people perched like a flock of birds on open-back wooden benches that should’ve been scattered across a grassy outdoor park. Not lined up on the gra
