Rebecca finally looked up. Tiffany wore a cream dress too glamorous for a weekday courthouse. Her makeup was flawless. She clung to Eric’s arm as though branding him. Eric stood in the center of his legal team, confident, smug, wearing the charcoal suit Rebecca had once bought him for their anniversary.
He saw her and smiled. Not kindly. Like someone who believed victory was guaranteed.
“Rebecca,” he greeted. “Are you ready for this.”
Rebecca said nothing. Her best friend Dana stood beside her squeezing her hand hard enough to hurt.
A bailiff called, “Mr Dalton. Court is ready.”
Eric and his entourage entered the courtroom. Rebecca followed with her thin folder of evidence, documents gathered through sleepless nights and relentless research. She knew she was outmatched. But she also knew the truth.
The courtroom was small, dark wood, fluorescent lights buzzing. Eric’s team spread laptops and files like an army. Rebecca sat alone at the other table. The judge entered, a stern woman with reading glasses and steel in her gaze.
“Please sit,” Judge Marlow said. She scanned the case file. “Dalton versus Sloan. Dissolution of marriage.”