“Your Honor, we are prepared to move forward,” Harrison Baxter said smoothly as he stood at his table. Judge Whitfield glanced toward the empty petitioner’s side and frowned, asking for the counsel representing Mrs. Sinclair.
When no one answered, Dominic let out a sharp exhale of irritation and tilted his head back as if his morning had been personally insulted. Gianna leaned toward him and whispered that perhaps the wife had simply changed her mind and given up.
“That would be the smartest thing she has done in a decade,” Dominic replied, his voice carrying just enough to be heard by the front row of the gallery. Judge Whitfield asked if the respondent had been properly notified, and the clerk confirmed that service had been executed weeks ago.
Just as the judge lifted his gavel to proceed in her absence, the heavy wooden doors at the back of the room swung open. The sound wasn’t loud, but in the sudden stillness of the chamber, it commanded every eye to turn toward the entrance.