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“Blake assigned me to defend this kid—the kind Mommy and Daddy hire attorneys for because they think their money can erase his bad behavior.” She rolled her eyes, the frustration thick in her voice. “He’s on his second offense, Mom. He’s not sorry. He doesn’t even understand what he did was wrong. All I can do is make sure his rights are protected and fight for procedural protections. Blake knows that. He knows I can’t win this case, and when the family inevitably throws a fit, they’ll blame me. Why would he do that?”

Charlotte leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms as she considered Ruth’s words. “Maybe he’s testing you.”

Ruth’s brow furrowed, disbelief coloring her expression. “Testing me? By setting me up to fail? How does that make sense?”

Charlotte tilted her head, her voice calm but firm. “Defense attorneys don’t always win, Ruth. That’s not your job. Your job is to ensure your client’s constitutional rights are upheld and to argue for the best possible outcome. If you’ve done that, then you’ve succeeded, regardless of the verdict. Blake may be testing how you handle a no-win case—how you prepare, argue, and stand your ground when things get tough.”

Ruth stared at her mother for a long moment, the skepticism in her eyes fading into reluctant understanding. “But it still feels like he’s setting me up for failure. What if the family complains? What if this ruins my reputation before I even have one?”

Charlotte smiled softly, her voice gentle but confident. “If you handle this case with integrity and professionalism, no one can take that away from you. You’re stronger than you think, Ruth. Blake probably sees that too, or he wouldn’t have given you this case. Remember, the best attorneys aren’t made in the easy wins—they’re forged in the hard fights.”

Ruth let out a slow breath, some of the tension in her back easing. “I hope you’re right.”

Charlotte squeezed her hand again. “I know I’m right. And if you ever need backup—for work or for dealing with that Matt character—you know where to find me.”

Ruth smiled, feeling a flicker of hope amidst the challenges. “Thanks, Mom. I’ll think about it. All of it.”

* * *

Ruth leftthe warmth of her childhood home with a mix of determination and trepidation. Her conversation with her mom had offered some clarity, but her situation still pressed heavily on her shoulders. After a long, hot shower to wash away the stress of the past few days, she packed her bag, exchanged hugs with her mom, and hit the road toward Pierre.

The journey started off uneventfully, but halfway there, the weather turned. A wintry mix of rain and snow began to fall, slicking the roads and reducing visibility. What was normally a smooth, two-hour drive stretched into three-plus agonizing hours.

Then, the drive grew more treacherous. Ice coated the narrow road like a deceptive sheet of glass, and Ruth gripped the steering wheel tightly, her knuckles white beneath the glow of the dashboard. Her progress was slow, the rhythmic sound of the windshield wipers breaking through the heavy silence.

Her mind raced as she drove, the events of the past week replaying in a relentless loop. First, there was Matt Brandt, leaving her with a gnawing sense of dread every time she thought about him. Then there was the trial she was assigned to.

And then, there was Noah Kandor. Her lips curved into a small smile at the thought of him. Her sisters had always described their men as “sex on a stick,” and if that meant impossibly attractive and a little too good to be true, then Noah fit the bill perfectly. Everything about him exuded quiet strength, from the way he carried himself to the way he seemed to look straight through her.

She’d picked up on the subtle signs of his interest—an extra-long glance, the way his tone softened when he spoke to her—but she had no idea what to do with it.

The truth was, she was hopelessly out of her depth when it came to men like Noah. When it came to men at all. She’d always played her cards well with her sisters, crafting an illusion of experience that couldn’t be further from reality. In truth, her only relationship had been a brief, lackluster affair in college. Her boyfriend at the time had been clumsy and self-serving, leaving her feeling unsatisfied and painfully self-conscious.

How could she ever tell a man like Noah that she didn’t know what she was doing? That the idea of intimacy—real, meaningful intimacy—both thrilled and terrified her?

Ruth kept both hands tight on the wheel, her headlights barely cutting through the swirling snow. The roads were slick, the kind of icy mess that demanded every ounce of her focus. She exhaled slowly, trying to stay relaxed—until her phone rang.

She glanced at the screen on her dashboard.Molly.

With a tap on her steering wheel, she answered, “Yeah?”

Molly’s voice came through, light and easy. “You sound thrilled to hear from me.”

Ruth huffed. “I’m driving.”

“In this?” Molly asked, her tone shifting. “Where the hell are you going?”

“Home.” Ruth’s eyes flicked to the road sign ahead, barely visible in the snow. “Trying, anyway.”

“Well, since you’re out braving death, I figured I’d call with some good news,” Molly said, clearly settled in somewhere warm. “Ethan and I are hosting for New Year’s. You should come.”

Ruth’s jaw tightened slightly as she maneuvered through a curve. “I’ll think about it.”

“Great, great,” Molly said, stretching out the words. “Because I was also thinking of inviting Noah.”

Ruth kept her eyes ahead, fingers flexing slightly on the wheel. “Okay.”

Molly sighed. “You could at least pretend to have a reaction.”