Teresa felt as though the room tilted. The judge, the pace of the trial, the certainty in every voice—it had all been decided long before she entered the courtroom. But why would Isabella destroy her? She was only a cook.
The reason sat in the third row of the gallery.
An eleven-year-old girl with a neat braid and anxious eyes. Sofia. Isabella’s daughter. At least, that was what the world believed.
Teresa’s public defender rose hesitantly. Daniel Brooks, twenty-eight, inexperienced and visibly nervous. “Your Honor,” he began, “my client maintains her innocence. We request additional time to gather evidence.”
Judge Harrison didn’t bother to look at him. “The defense has had ample time.”
“I was assigned this case two days ago,” Daniel insisted softly.
“Are you questioning this court, Counselor?”
He swallowed. Everyone knew challenging Judge Harrison meant ending a career. “No, Your Honor. I’m asking for fairness.”
“Fairness?” the judge echoed. “The necklace was found in her closet. There are photographs. Witnesses. What more do you require?”
Soft laughter rippled through the room.
Teresa closed her eyes and remembered the morning it began.