Chapter 105

• Eloise’s POV
• I walked into the room, my heels clicking at the marble floor as I settled into the hard wood bench, the wood cold unyielding under me. The air in the courtroom feels stale, like it’s been recycled through too many breaths of people waiting for something ugly to happen. There’s that faint, metallic smell in the air, maybe from the polished brass fixtures, maybe from nerves — and the low hum of whispers that sounds like a restless hive. Today was Jennifer's trial.
• Jennifer sits at the defense table, her hair perfectly smoothed into a glossy curtain, her blouse white, a deliberate performance of innocence. But her jaw is too tight, lips too polished. She’s playing the role for the gallery, but I can already see the cracks in the mask.