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“Well,” he said, a faint smile tugging at his lips, “should I be worried?”

Ruth scrambled to her feet, smoothing her skirt. “Mr. Ellison, I—I’m so sorry. That wasn’t?—”

Blake held up a hand, his expression light. “Save your apologies for your shoe.”

A surprised laugh escaped her lips before she could stop it. She sank back into her chair, momentarily disarmed. Blake strode over, picked up the errant shoe, and set it gently on her desk.

“Rough call?” He took the seat across from her and crossed one ankle over his knee.

“You could say that,” Ruth replied, rubbing her temples. “The Warrens are... difficult.”

“Difficult,” Blake repeated, his tone laced with dry humor. “Is it any wonder their kid gets in trouble?”

Ruth managed a wry smile. “Honestly, no. But their expectations are unrealistic. They want me to wave a magic wand and make all of this go away. What am I supposed to do?”

Blake’s gaze sharpened, though his demeanor remained calm. “Do the best you can, Ruth. That’s all anyone can expect.”

“And if I lose?”

His eyes twinkled with an unshakable confidence. “Then you won’t lose. The kid’s behavior will handle that for you.”

Ruth sat back, his words sinking in. She respected Blake’s clarity and reassurance, but the pressure of representing a high-profile case—especially with clients like the Warrens—felt immense.

“Thank you,” she said finally, her voice softer.

Blake stood, brushing imaginary lint from his suit. “Just remember, Ruth: you’re here because you’re the best. Don’t let a pair of overbearing parents make you forget that.” He left the office as quietly as he had entered, leaving Ruth to stare at her shoe, which now seemed less like an object of frustration and more like a testament to her humanity.

With a deep breath, Ruth slipped the shoe back on, straightened her blazer, and opened her case file. She had work to do.

* * *

The small dinerwas warm and lit by pendant lights over each booth, its ancient jukebox humming faintly in the corner. Outside, snow whipped against the frosted windows, muffling the sounds of the world beyond. Noah and Alex sat at a booth near the radiator, each nursing a cup of coffee that seemed to barely take the edge off the bone-deep chill. The sights and smells of the dump they had spent the morning combing through lingered, no matter how hard they tried to ignore them.

Noah stared at the swirling steam rising from his cup. “This is turning into a nightmare.”

Alex shifted in his seat, watching him carefully. “When was the last time you slept through the night? Or ate something that wasn’t a sandwich?”

Noah shrugged, his expression neutral but his exhaustion betraying him.

Alex shook his head, his concern deepening. “Alright, here’s the deal: we’ve got two more case deadlines before Christmas to get the last bits of documentation to our trial attorneys. That’s going to take us right up to the holidays. After that, the courts usually quiet down because the judges all take off. During the break, I’ll go through every piece of evidence we’ve got from Hilton, okay?” He stared at Noah, eyes bloodshot from too many hours chasing leads. “You make any headway with Hilton’s info?”

Noah sighed and rubbed his temples. “I’m trying. First, I need to track down the thugs who yanked Robert Hilton out of protective custody and drugged our two officers. Then, I need to find how to sort through his accounting notes on the damn disc drive. And even if I do, I still have no idea how to decode whatever Maxim Fairchild was hiding.” He leaned back, exhaling sharply. “Hilton—he treated this like a damn game. He came to us for an out, but never once thought to actually help.”

Alex frowned. “So, we’re still in the dark.”

“Not completely,” Noah muttered. “Just enough to trip over whatever comes next.”

Alex leaned back, a question hovering on his lips. “So... what are you doing for Christmas?”

Noah shrugged again, this time with a touch of discomfort. “My folks are flying out to Seattle to spend time with my sister and brother-in-law. It’s my niece’s first Christmas, so they’ll all be together. I’ll probably grab some Chinese food and watch a movie.”

Alex frowned, shaking his head in mock disapproval. “No, you won’t. You’re coming to Charlotte’s.”

Noah raised an eyebrow, half amused. “Oh, am I?”

“Yes, you are,” Alex said firmly. “Charlotte’s been planning a big celebration since Isobel came home from the hospital. And we’ve got Molly and Ethan bringing their new baby, Wyatt. There’s going to be a ton of good food, great drinks... and you’re my family, Noah. You belong there.”

Noah couldn’t help but laugh when Alex’s lower lip jutted out in an exaggerated pout.