und in the vast, polished courtroom. I didn' t hear

guil

r, sharper pieces. Across the room, Chloe Davis, the woman who had mowed down my five-year-old dau

reached out. Not for her family,

her from her chair, and right there, in front of the judge, the jury, and me, he wrapped his arms arou

stumbled to my feet, my chair s

av

nnoyance, as if I were a strang

ras. I pushed through them, my only focus on the man I had once loved. I grabbed

ed, my voice cracking. "H

grip surprisingly rough.

id of any emotion. "It was a tragic accident. The

tasting like poison. "She kille

he shot back, his voice rising. "It won't bri

d glided up beside him, her arm looping possessively through

ce dripping with fake sympathy. "You real

ty guards. They were an impenetrable wall of money and influence. I was just a grieving mother in a worn-o

them. But the system was made of people. And I knew someone who still believed in justice. The

, the city air thick

ce raw and loud, cutting through the noi

ury. He stepped toward me,

ne, Sarah. You're em

lf?" My laugh was a br

rters leaned in, their cameras like hungry eyes. "If you had been watching her more closel

harder than any physical blow. He didn

me alone on the steps, the weight of his acc