Final hearing day for the debt and fraud case.
I wore a sharp, custom-tailored black haute couture suit, stepping up the stairs of the state courthouse in high heels. Both sides were packed with media reporters wielding cameras and microphones, flashes going off in a sea of light.
"Selina! I beg you, let me go!"
A haggard, skeletal woman suddenly broke through the security line, lunging forward and fiercely hugging my calf.
It was Amy.
She no longer possessed any of the arrogance she had when she stood in high heels at the all-staff meeting, acting like she owned the place. Now, she wore a pilled, old T-shirt, her hair plastered greasily to her scalp, her whole body emitting a foul, sour stench.
"I really know I was wrong! I could never earn five million in my entire life! I'll do an
