“You can’t do this to me!”

“I loved you!”

I walked out into the cool, bright corridor without looking back.

Rachel was waiting for me outside the double doors of the courtroom.

She held a paper cup of cold water out to me.

“How did it go?” she asked.

“He wanted to sell out his mother,” I said, taking a sip of the water.

“Did you take it?”

“No,” I said. “They both belong in prison.”

Rachel nodded slowly, her expression grim.

“Good,” she said. “Detective Sullivan is inside. He says the forensic accountant finished the audit.”

We walked back into the courtroom and took our seats in the second row of the gallery.

Detective Sullivan was sitting near the prosecution table.

He turned and gave me a brief, firm nod.

The courtroom was starting to fill again.

Margaret was led back in by two deputies.

She looked older, her shoulders slumped, her usual pristine hair disheveled.

She did not look at her son as he was brought back to the defense table.

Ethan sat as far from her as the small table allowed.