Behind the wooden railing, Clara Sterling let out a sharp, high laugh that caught in her throat before she pressed her manicured fingers to her lips.

She twisted the heavy emerald ring on her right hand, leaning forward on the gallery bench to catch every word.

Julian adjusted his navy blue silk tie with his thumb and forefinger and leaned back in his leather chair as his lawyer slid the final signature page across the counsel table toward my hand.

“You understand that by signing this document, you walk out of this courtroom today with no financial support, no car, and no legal claim to Vance Contracting?” Judge Norris asked, looking over the rim of her glasses straight into my eyes.

“I understand,” I said, resting my hand protectively on my bump.