As I entered the courthouse, the atmosphere was charged with tension. Reporters jostled for positions, their cameras capturing every nuance, every expression on my face as I marched up the steps. The gravity of the situation sank in, and I steeled myself for what lay ahead.
Jane awaited me inside with a look of resolve. I handed her Linda's victim statement, which she had faxed over to me that morning. Just from reading over it, I could tell it would be a powerful testimony of the horrors she had endured.
"We're ready for this, Evie," Jane said, her voice steady. "And if all else fails, at least we got people to think.”
I nodded, gripping the statement tightly. Linda's courage gave me strength. I certainly did feel like a lawyer then, representing the voiceless.
The courtroom doors swu
