I held the edge of the wooden witness box, my fingers pressing into the grain.

Beside me, Miller stood up immediately.

“Objection, Your Honor,” Miller said. “This is a transparent attempt to defame the witness.”

“The defense has had months to review the witness list and her background.”

“These documents are newly obtained, Your Honor,” Vance argued.

I looked past the defense table toward the gallery.

Gabriel sat in the third row, his shoulders broad and his face expressionless.

He caught my eye and gave a single, slow nod.

We had anticipated this.

We knew Richard would try to use the fabricated medical records Ethan had generated.

The judge gestured for both attorneys to approach the bench.

They spoke in hushed, hurried whispers, their gestures sharp.

The courtroom was dead silent except for the faint hum of the air conditioning.

I looked at my father.

Richard sat with his hands clasped on the table, his chin tilted up in that familiar, arrogant pose.

Next to him, Ethan was sweating, his blue tie slightly loosened at his throat.

A few seats behind them sat Vanessa.