“Perhaps,” Julian said softly. “Which is why we’ve called an expert witness to clarify the medical terminology.”

Before Sterling could protest, the heavy oak doors at the back of the courtroom swung open with a definitive thud.

The temperature in the room seemed to drop ten degrees. Striding down the aisle was Dr. Helen Park, in a severe charcoal suit, her silver hair pulled into a tight, unforgiving bun.

Her eyes, sharp and cold as surgical steel, locked immediately onto Evan.

His confident, tragic smile vanished. His hand dropped from his cufflink.

In the gallery, Vivian clutched her pearls, her powdered face losing color. “Who on earth is that woman?” she hissed to Marissa.