But a highlighted line on a courtroom screen, traced by a woman in a charcoal suit who had done this a hundred times, was undeniable.

Ian sat there watching his own signature convict him, and there was nothing his tired lawyer or his own frantic mind could do about it, because the truth, once it is documented and projected ten feet tall, stops being a matter of whose word you believe.

Chapter 31 — He Pointed at His Mother

Ian stood up so fast his chair scraped.

“Your Honor — I didn’t orchestrate this.

I swear it.