Chapter 21

• The hour hand of the cheap wall clock above the bullpen area had crept past seven, yet Renee hadn’t noticed. The fluorescent lights were dimmed to a standby glow, and the usually frantic chorus of keyboards and ringing phones had been replaced by a deep, humming silence. The only sound was the focused click-clack of her own fingertips hitting the keys of her battered work laptop.
• She was buried in a spreadsheet—not for the bank, but for her own, much more terrifying future. Camila’s barrister friend, Mrs. Sabrina, had given Renee a terrifyingly detailed list of financial documents required to build her civil case.
• Renee was trying to map out every single debt, every medical bill, and every penny Kelvin had ever given her or her mother, preparing for the inevitable, brutal assault on her character. She felt less like a victim seeking justice and more like a soldier meticulously stacking fragile glass shards as weaponry.