I felt a cold chill run through my veins.

“I have the video,” I said.

“The camera in the kitchen recorded everything.”

Sullivan nodded.

“That video is our strongest piece of evidence,” he said.

“But the defense will try to suppress it.”

“They will argue the camera was installed illegally.”

“It was my kitchen,” I said, my voice growing stronger.

“I bought the camera with my own money.”

“I installed it because I felt unsafe in my own home.”

“I know,” Sullivan said. “And we will fight to keep it in.”

“But you need to be prepared, Natalie.”

“You are going to have to stand up there in front of a judge and a jury.”

“They will ask you every personal question they can think of.”

“They will try to make you look unstable.”

“They will try to make you look greedy.”

I looked down at my hands.

The white gauze covered my fingers, hiding the raw, damaged flesh beneath.

My career as a financial fraud lawyer had prepared me for courtrooms.

But I had always been the one standing behind the podium.