Two black SUVs sat idling by the curb, their exhaust pipes sending white plumes into the rain.

Marcus opened the door for me.

I buckled Evelyn into her car seat, my hands trembling slightly despite my training.

“We have them cornered,” Marcus said as the door clicked shut.

“Just stay focused.”

The federal district courthouse was an imposing stone building.

Heavy brass doors shut out the sound of the Alexandria traffic.

The air inside smelled of wet wool coats, pine cleaner, and old paper.

Naomi met us in the lobby.

She wore a tailored charcoal suit, her dark hair pulled back.

“Grant’s lawyer tried to file a last-minute motion to exclude our evidence,” Naomi said.

“The judge threw it out.”

“Is Grant here?” I asked.

“He’s upstairs,” Naomi said, looking at her watch. “With Brielle’s ring still on his finger, probably.”

We took the elevator to the third floor.

In the hallway outside Courtroom 4B, I saw him.

Grant stood by the water fountain, whispering frantically to a man in a cheap gray suit.

Grant’s hair was unwashed, and his collar was crooked.