The conference room was too bright, the afternoon sun blinding. The legal pad in front of her was blank except for the date. She’d written that much at least.
Rachel had asked her to sit in on the strategy session with Valerie. “Fresh eyes,” she’d said, and Miller had agreed before the words fully registered. Now she was here, waiting for Valerie,and the room felt somehow distant, like she was watching it through glass.
It’d been two weeks since she had driven away from Astoria’s house, and the world had kept moving without her. Cases got filed, hearings got scheduled, and the summer sun rose and set. Everything continued exactly as before, and Miller couldn’t understand how that was possible when nothing felt the same.
The door opened, and Valerie swept in.
She was immaculate as always, wearing a cream silk blouse, tailored black slacks, and gold jewelry that caught the light. Her brunette hair fell in soft waves around her shoulders, and her makeup was flawless. She looked like a woman who had never suffered a single inconvenience in her life.
Her gaze found Miller immediately, and something cold flickered behind her eyes.
“Miller.” She said her name like an accusation. “I didn’t realize you’d be joining us.”
“Rachel asked me to consult.” Miller kept her voice neutral. “To give a fresh perspective.”
“How very…generous of you.” Valerie’s smile didn’t reach her eyes as she took her seat, claiming the space the way she always did. “Considering you abandoned my case when I needed you the most.”
Rachel cleared her throat. “Let’s focus on the matter at hand. We’re three weeks out from the trial, and I want to review our strategy.”
The next twenty minutes were a recitation of facts Miller already knew. The settlement talks had stalled; Astoria’s team wasn’t budging on the company valuation, and Gerald Bracks had made it clear his client would go to trial before accepting Valerie’s demands. The document leak hadn’t produced the public outcry Valerie had hoped for, and the accusations against Miller had gone nowhere.
Miller watched Valerie’s face as Rachel spoke. The mask was slipping. Beneath the polished surface, something desperate was starting to show—a tightness around the mouth, a sharpness in the eyes. Valerie was losing, and she knew it.
“We need a new approach,” Valerie said when Rachel finished. “Something that will destroy her credibility before she takes the stand.”
Rachel’s expression remained neutral. “What did you have in mind?”
“I have information.” Valerie leaned forward slightly, and her voice dropped conspiratorially. “Personal information about Astoria’s mental state. Things I observed during our marriage that paint a very different picture than the one she presents to the world.”
Miller’s pen stilled against the legal pad.
“What kind of information?” Rachel asked.
“Erratic behavior, emotional instability, episodes where she would be completely irrational, even dangerous.” Valerie’s hands spread in a gesture of reluctant honesty. “I didn’t even want to bring this up—it feels like a betrayal, even now—but if she’s going to sit in that courtroom and pretend to be the victim, the judge needs to know who she really is.”
Miller felt like she just plunged her entire body in ice water.
She knew Astoria. She’d held her in the dark, had watched her fight to let down her walls, had seen the way Valerie’s manipulation had convinced her she was broken and unlovable. The woman Valerie was describing—unstable, erratic, dangerous—wasn’t Astoria. It was the version of Astoria that Valerie had spent their entire marriage trying to create.
“Can you be more specific?” Rachel asked. “What kind of episodes are we talking about?”
“There was a time she threw a glass at the wall during an argument. Another time, she locked herself in her office for twodays and refused to speak to anyone. She would go through these periods where she barely ate, barely slept—” Valerie shook her head in practiced sorrow. “I tried to get her help, but she refused. She said I was imagining things, that I was the one with problems. Classic deflection.”
Miller’s stomach churned. This was it. This was exactly what Valerie had done throughout the marriage: taken Astoria's pain, her exhaustion, her attempts to survive the relationship, and reframed them as evidence of instability. And now she wanted to do it again, in open court, where Astoria would have to sit and listen while her ex-wife painted her as unhinged.
“Can any of this be verified?” Miller asked.
Valerie’s head snapped toward her. “Excuse me?”
“The episodes you’re describing, are there witnesses? Documentation? Medical records?”
“I was her wife. I witnessed them.”
“That makes you a party to the case, not an objective source.” Miller met Valerie's gaze steadily. “If we present claims about Ms. Shepry's mental state without corroborating evidence, we're asking the judge to accept your interpretation as fact. That's a character assassination dressed up as a legal argument. At best, the judge ignores it. At worst, it backfires and destroysyourcredibility instead of hers.”
Valerie’s eyes narrowed. “You’re not even on this case anymore. Why are you here?”
“Miller works at this firm,” Rachel said evenly. “I asked for her input.”
