The judge regarded her for a moment. “Do you intend to respond on your own behalf?”
“Yes.”
Another pause. “Very well. You may speak.”
For a few seconds she said nothing.
The room waited, almost greedily.
She looked down at the two boys beside her. One of them leaned his shoulder lightly against her arm. Then she lifted her gaze, set her bag on the table, and opened it.
“I signed that agreement,” she said slowly, “because I trusted him.”
Julian rolled his eyes and leaned back farther, letting out an audible breath. “Here we go.”
But she did not look at him. “I signed it because when someone tells you they love you, and when you have spent years building a life with them, you stop imagining every sentence is a trap. You stop treating every smile like a blade wrapped in velvet.”
Hanley’s tone remained even. “Your Honor, emotional commentary does not alter the validity of a signed contract.”
“I know,” she said.
There was something in the way she answered that made him glance up more sharply.
“I’m not contesting that I signed it,” she continued. “I’m saying there is something your client forgot.”
Hanley frowned. “There is nothing missing. All documentation has been provided to the court.”