“I’ll take my chances,” I said softly.
My mother scoffed, linking her arm through my father’s. “She’s always been stubborn. And stupid. Let’s go, Robert. Let the judge humiliate her. Maybe then she’ll learn her place.”
“She doesn’t deserve a cent,” my father said loudly, ensuring the other people in the hallway heard him. “Unaware that in a court of law, ‘deserve’ is irrelevant. Only ‘prove’ matters.”
They walked past me into the courtroom, laughing.
I waited a beat, took a deep breath, and followed them in.
The courtroom was old, smelling of wood polish and history. Judge Halloway sat on the bench—a stern woman with gray hair and eyes that looked like they could cut glass.
“Calling case 4029, Vance vs. Vance,” the bailiff announced.
Mr. Sterling stood up with a flourish. “Ready for the Plaintiff, Your Honor.”
“Ready for the Defense,” I said, remaining seated.
