Page 9 of Endgame

Surprisingly, he isn’t one of our usual lawyers.

Every associate and partner at Alder’s firm has been too busy to take my case, which leaves me with Larry.

Weird, considering they have a shit ton of people working there.

But what do I know?

Basically nothing.

Not just about Alder’s firm. What used to be his, anyway.

I’m talking about law. Life. Everything.

My tutors stopped showing up after I got my high school diploma through homeschooling. I don’t have access to textbooks.

The ones I bought at the mall were tossed in the trash the minute I got home.

God forbid I get educated. God forbid I form my own opinion about anything.

Sigh.

Other than Larry, my security detail lingers near the rear exit, eyes sharp and posture tense.

The rest of the court is bustling with people waiting to appear before the judge today.

She’s a beautiful woman, her gray hair cut in an immaculate bob that frames a sharp face. Her blue eyes hold the kind of authority that makes people sit straighter.

“Judge is an old friend from law school,” my attorney reminds me of his connections. Boasting, really. “You’re looking at the bare minimum here, if she doesn’t throw this case out entirely.”

Minimum, as in three months at most, with a third deducted for good behavior.

Sigh.

I could really use something like, what? Six months inside?

Six months with other inmates who aren’t my parents. At least around them, I’m an equal. That’s always a breath of fresh air.

“Aurora?” His emerald-green eyes narrow, his breath smelling of stale cigarettes.

“Cool.” As inconspicuously as possible, I scoot away from him. “Thanks.”

He gives me a brisk nod. “You’re up next.”

“Great.” I smooth my suit jacket. My skirt. “Let’s get this over with.”

Bam, the judge bangs her gavel. The defendant and the attorney before me leave the courtroom, while the Assistant District Attorney remains seated.

The judge meets my attorney’s gaze.

My name should be called any second now.

“Judge Tucker.” A bailiff storms in from one of the side doors, rushing toward her. “I have a message for you.”

Her lips pinch, the corners of her forehead creasing with how hard she’s frowning.

My attorney, on the other hand, straightens his spine. The smirk on his face is a reflection of his cockiness.

Despite the judge’s confusion, Larry’s demeanor could only mean one thing—he trusts that my parents managed to close this case while we’ve been waiting here.