Vance.”

Clara laughed again, short and dismissive, as she turned toward the double wooden doors of Division Two.

“Let her go on,” Clara whispered to Julian.

“She doesn’t have five hundred dollars left in her bank account anyway.”

Julian stared at me for three more seconds, clicking the top of his gold pen twice before sliding it into his breast pocket.

The bailiff unlocked the brass handles of the double courtroom doors and pulled them wide against the marble walls.