I couldn’t answer her now, not with Margaret’s cold eyes locked onto me.

I silenced the ringer and slid the phone back into my wool coat.

“Look at her,” Margaret said, her voice dripping with artificial pity.

She turned to the lead lawyer who had just stepped into the damp chapel entryway.

“She is already showing signs of paranoia and detachment,” Margaret whispered, loud enough for everyone to hear.

“We will document every single phone call, Grace,” Ethan added, taking a step toward me.

His leather shoes clicked sharply on the stone floor.

“You have no job, no home of your own, and now you are associating with a family outcast,” Ethan said.

He gestured toward Julian with a dismissive wave of his hand.

“A judge will look at your bank accounts and then look at mine,” Ethan sneered.

“Sophie belongs in the Caldwell estate, raised by people who actually have a future.”

The words felt like physical blows, knocking the wind out of my chest.

I took a step back, my hand instinctively reaching for the silver cross necklace around my neck.