Ruth’s bracelets gave a soft, nervous chime as she shifted in her chair.
Andrew watched me with an expression I could not read.
He had expected anger.
He had expected tears, perhaps, or a desperate appeal to the court.
He had not expected me to stand calmly with a folder I had prepared before entering the room.
Judge Porter examined the first page and then looked at me.
“Mrs. Ellison, what specifically are you disputing?”
“The signature, the financial disclosures, and several changes made to the agreement after I received the version Mr. Ellison presented to me.”
Andrew’s face tightened.
“I never changed anything,” he said.
Judge Porter turned toward him.
“Mr. Ellison, you will have an opportunity to speak through counsel.”
“I’m only saying—”
“Please wait.”
Andrew fell silent.
I looked at him for a moment.
There had been a time when his voice could steady me simply because it was his.
