The courthouse looks different in November.
Colder. Grayer. Less forgiving than it did six weeks ago when I won my first taste of freedom.
I arrive at eight-thirty for a ten o'clock hearing. Amanda insisted on extra time for prep. Lily's with me, wearing a dress she borrowed because all her clothes are "too college student" for court. James and Keiko flank us, professional and alert.
The media presence is smaller this time—old news, apparently—but there are still cameras. Still reporters shouting questions.
"Bella! Are you confident about today?"
"Do you regret seeking early access?"
"Is it true you haven't spoken to Marcus Valerio in six weeks?"
I keep my head down and let James clear a path.
Inside, Amanda meets us with her team. She's wearing a power suit that probably costs mor
