She struck the gavel once and stood up.

The courtroom stood as she exited through the door behind her bench.

As soon as she was gone, the room erupted into a low murmur of voices.

Reporters in the back row were already typing furiously on their laptops.

Callum stood up and turned toward me.

The bailiff stepped between us immediately, his hand resting near his holster.

“Avery,” Callum said, his voice a low, raspy whisper.

“You think you’ve won.”

“You think you can take my company and my child.”

I stood up slowly, keeping one hand on the edge of the table for support.

“I didn’t do this, Callum,” I said softly.

“You wrote the emails.”

“You signed the bank transfers.”

“You did this to yourself.”

He took a step forward, but the bailiff placed a hand on his chest.

“Step back, sir,” the bailiff said.

Callum stared at me, his eyes wide and bloodshot.

“This isn’t over,” he said.

He turned and hurried down the center aisle, his attorney rushing to keep up with him.

The double doors swung open and the hallway noise spilled into the courtroom.