Chapter 3 - The Night Before CourtI didn't sleep.
I sat on the narrow mattress inside the detention cell and listened to the building breathe.
Doors opened.
Keys rattled.
Footsteps passed.
Somewhere down the corridor, a woman was crying.
I closed my eyes.
For the first time since my arrest, I allowed myself to remember the moment Callan's hand struck my face.
Not the pain.
The look in his eyes.
There had been no regret.
No fear.
Only rage.
He had believed I was powerless.
That was what hurt most.
For three years, I had tried to become the perfect Harrington wife.
I had learned their rules.
Their manners.
Their dinners.
Their silences.
I had smiled when Melissa insulted my family.
I had apologized when Brooklyn deliberately humiliated me.
I had ignored Callan's temper.
Because I believed marriage meant endurance.
That night, sitting alone behind bars, I finally understood something.
Endurance was not love.
Silence was not loyalty.
And forgiveness did not mean allowing someone to destroy you.
At nine the next morning, the courtroom would decide whether I was guilty.
But I already knew something else.
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The Harringtons were going to court believing they had won.
They had no idea what was waiting for them.
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