Ignoring their confusion, Daniel replied with cool detachment, “My firm’s lawyer is representing the defense. A company can’t put counsel on both sides of the aisle.”
His relatives gaped. “You—you're letting your own employee defend the woman who killed your father? Are you insane?”
Daniel didn’t spare them a glance.
“So what? Lawyers stand for justice. No matter how close someone is, they must pay for their crimes.”
Well rehearsed.
I sneered from across the courtroom.
I wondered if he’d still say that once the evidence played.
The judge struck his gavel, reading out the case details.
“I hereby declare the trial for the August 29th collision on Westbrook Avenue officially open. The deceased, Richard Carter—”
“Who are you talking about?”
A sharp thud broke out behind me. Daniel shot to his feet, face pale.
