We walked into the small, wood-paneled room where Judge Vance sat behind a large desk covered in files.

She looked up, her glasses sliding down her nose.

“Ms. Hart,” Judge Vance said. “I understand you have an emergency filing regarding the Hayes trust.”

“We do, Your Honor,” Lydia said, stepping forward.

Before Lydia could hand over the papers, the heavy wooden door to the chambers swung open behind us.

Evan stood in the doorway, his coat wet from the rain, his hair disheveled.

He looked past Lydia and straight at me, his eyes wide and dark with anger.

“Claire,” he said, taking a step into the room. “You need to stop this right now.”

“Mr. Sterling,” Judge Vance said, her voice dropping to a cold, hard register.

“You are interrupting an active chamber conference.”

Evan ignored the judge, his eyes locked onto mine.

“Claire, please,” he said, his voice cracking slightly as he stepped closer.

“We need to talk. Just five minutes.”

Lydia shifted her weight, placing herself slightly in front of me.

“My client has nothing to say to you, Evan,” Lydia said.