Jenna
We should meet earlier on Monday.
Colton
Sure. Any time.
My throat tightens for reasons I don’t immediately want to unpack.
“Okay,” Isla says carefully, watching my face. “We need a plan.”
“I know.”
“And preferably one that doesn’t involve us all spiraling into legal disaster.”
“I’m aware.”
I sink onto the couch beside her, my gaze fixed on the screen for a moment longer than necessary before finally pressing the power button.
Fuck. Me. Sideways.
“Maybe,” Isla adds slowly, “you should just tell him to get a girlfriend.”
I look at her.
She lifts both hands. “I’m not sayingyou—I’m saying in general. Strategically.”
“Isla.”
“What? It’s not illegal advice.”
“It’s not legal either. It’s a lie.”
She shrugs. “Still useful.”
I exhale, leaning back into the couch like it might absorb the weight of this. “I’m going to have to rethink everything tomorrow. Bye Sunday.”
“Love that for you,” she says, already reaching for the second wine bottle.
And I don’t answer.
Because I’m already thinking about how many things can fall apart at once—and how Colton and I apparently collect them like it’s a hobby. We can just hope it won’t slip out that Colton’s mom is in the hospital and that Mira and fucking Goldblatt won’t find out for a long, long time.
NINETEEN
Colton
Ican’t stop my leg from bouncing under the table.
Up and down, up and down.
It’s one of those nervous habits I’ve had since childhood. And today, something feels off. The courtroom seems even smaller, the air thicker, and I struggle to breathe. I steal a glance at Mira across the aisle, perfectly poised in her designer dress, not a blonde hair out of place like always. I don’t know how I fell for her fakeness. I was stupid. Saw legs and boobs and that’s about it.
She catches my eye and her lips curl into something that might look like a smile to the judge, but I know better. She has something on us. Beside me, Jenna shuffles papers with quiet efficiency, her face an unreadable mask of professional calm. I trust her with my daughter’s future, but the weight of that trust sits heavy on my chest. We worked a lot on this case over the past few days, and she told me it’s not looking good for us—and I hate it with my entire being.
“All rise for Judge Brennan.”
I stand automatically.
