It was not a coincidence, the kind of law she chose to practice now.

She had spent years as a criminal defense attorney, brilliant and feared, working for whoever could afford her.

She came back to something narrower and, to her, far larger: she represented the people who had been made small by someone who was supposed to love them — the spouses whose money had been quietly siphoned, the partners who had been told for years they were imagining things, the people who arrived in her office certain that no one would believe them because the person harming them was so charming, so respectable, so good in front of an audience.

Adaira believed them.

She believed them instantly and completely, because she had been them.

She knew, from the inside, exactly what it was to be disbelieved by a whole room while the truth sat plainly in front of everyone.