When her relatives entered the courtroom, they whispered to her in confusion.
"Why is your husband sitting up there? Shouldn't you be the one leading the case?"
Abigail gave a dismissive little laugh, answering casually, "The defendant's seat is already taken by my company's lawyer. A firm can't have two of its own lawyers sitting on both the plaintiff and defendant's side."
Her relatives gaped at her in disbelief.
"You—you let one of your employees defend the man who killed your mother? Are you insane?"
She didn't even bother sparing them a glance.
"So what? A lawyer's duty is to stand for justice. Even if it's family—if they've done wrong, they must face the consequences."
Oh, she sounded so righteous.
I couldn't help but sneer silently from where I stood.
'Would she still speak so self-righteously after the trial began?' I wondered.
The judge's gavel struck down, echoing across the chamber.
“I hereby announce the opening of the trial for the Rose Avenue car accident case of August 29th. The deceased: Emilia Shaw—”
“Who are you talking about?”
A loud thud sounded behind me as Abigail shot to her feet, her face pale.
