Zoe's POV
I had imagined this moment a thousand different ways.
In some versions, I was angry.
In others, I was numb.
But nothing prepared me for the sound of chains.
The metallic clink echoed through the courtroom before I even looked up.
My body reacted first.
My hands tightened around each other so hard my knuckles turned white.
Then I looked.
Margaret Ross was being escorted inside.
She wore a pale cream blouse beneath a dark blazer, but nothing about her looked elegant anymore. The woman who had once walked through designer stores with effortless confidence now walked carefully, almost cautiously, as though every step carried a weight only she could feel.
Her wrists were cuffed.
Her eyes were lowered.
And for one terrifying second, I saw not the woman Chloe had accused.
Not the woman Mr. Donovan had investigated.
Not the woman the newspapers were calling a criminal.
I saw the woman who had tucked a blanket around me when I had a fever.
