Julian’s attorney, Robert Hanley, was a man who wore calm like a profession. His silver tie was perfectly centered. His papers were divided by color-coded tabs. He had practiced his opening in the mirror, though not because he needed to. He was the kind of lawyer who knew how to tell a court a story that felt inevitable long before the other side had spoken. This would be easy, he had thought when the file first came across his desk. Prenuptial agreement. Questionable financial standing on the wife’s side. Husband with resources. Husband with public credibility. Twin boys young enough for the argument of “stability” to sound benevolent. Wife with no visible family network. Wife who had vanished from certain social circles years ago and resurfaced under a softened name. Wife whose silence had allowed other people to define her. Robert Hanley had built a career out of people like her.