Chapter 2 - The Corridor of Glass
The hallway outside Courtroom 3B smelled of wet limestone and floor wax.
Anna clung to my arm, her fingers cold as ice against my sleeve. "Mom... how did you do that? Who were those people on the phone yesterday? I thought you just worked at the bookstore after Dad got sick."
"I did work at the bookstore, sweetheart," I said softly, smoothing down the lapel of my cheap navy blazer where Evelyn’s diamond rings had left a mark. "And before that, I worked somewhere else."
"Mrs. Hayes!"
The sharp, high-pitched snap of heels echoed down the corridor.
Evelyn marched toward us, her three attorneys trailing behind her like ducklings caught in a crosswind. Her face was mottled with a furious, ugly red that clashed violently with her pearls.
"What kind of pathetic game are you playing?" Evelyn hissed, stopping two feet away from us. Her eyes were wild. "You think you can flash some old government ID and scare my lawyers? Frank built this family! Frank built the lake house! You were just a nursemaid he picked up when he was lonely!"
Sterling caught up, his face pale, frantically whispering in her ear. "Mrs. Carter, please—shut your mouth. Let me handle this."
"Handle what?" Evelyn snarled, shaking him off. She turned back to me, her voice dropping into a venomous hiss. "If you think you're keeping that house, you're insane. I’ll freeze every account you have. I’ll drag this out until you’re bankrupt and living in a shelter."
I didn't blink. I stepped around Anna, closing the distance between Evelyn and me until she was forced to tilt her head up to meet my eyes.
"Evelyn," I said, my voice barely above a whisper, "when Frank was dying, he didn't give me the lake house because he was confused."
She sneered. "Then why? Because you manipulated him on his deathbed?"
"No," I replied steadily. "He gave it to me because three weeks before he died, he looked at his bank statements and realized you had been siphoning forty thousand dollars a month from his commercial trust to fund your second husband’s failed horse farm in Middleburg."
Evelyn’s breath caught in her throat. The diamond rings on her hand suddenly looked very heavy as her fingers curled into tight fists.
"You're... you're lying," she whispered, her voice losing its manic edge, replaced by a sudden, chilling panic.
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"The federal audit ledger is currently sitting on Judge Bennett's desk," I said, turning away from her. "And the thirty-minute recess is almost over."
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