Eloise
The next day….
I sat on the second row, hands folded over the leather strap of my purse, listening to the shuffle of shoes, the murmured chatter, and the squeak of pens dragging against notepads. It had been trial after trial, one courtroom after another, and my body had grown used to this place, almost as if my ribs had sprouted their own wooden benches.
I didn’t mind. No, not anymore. So far every soul that had left scars on me, physical, emotional, spiritual, had been made to choke down their share of the poison they brewed. Today would be no different.
Today belonged to Jennifer.
She stood at the front, just beyond the polished oak barrier that separated the public from the professionals. She was thinner than before, her once-gleaming blonde hair dulled and tied in a hasty
