EllaThe moonlight streamed into the living room, casting a dim glow over the scattered papers around me.My floor had turned into a makeshift work desk, a testament to the unyielding hours I’d spent trying to decipher every detail of the case. A nearly empty wine glass sat next to me, a small but rebellious act of indulgence for the night. I had to arm myself mentally and emotionally to go t
EllaThe meeting had been far more intense than I'd anticipated. The courthouse’s grandeur, with its marble floors and tall pillars, had done little to cushion the impact of Westbrook’s verbal blows.As we exited the grand, double doors, the change in environment was immediately noticeable. From the stifling intensity inside, we were met with an unexpected chill. The sky had turned a so
EllaThe chilling revelation about Officer Daniels left a pit in my stomach, but not for the reasons Logan might've assumed. It wasn’t fear that gnawed at me—it was a burning anger. Injustice had always spurred me to action.As we walked back to the car, Logan turned to me, his eyes full of concern. “Ella, if you think this is too much, it’s not too late to walk away.”I let out a sarcastic laugh, masking the fierce determination bubbling beneath the surface. “Logan, walking away is not in my nature. This just got a lot more personal.”His gaze softened, relief evident. “Good, because I could really use someone like you on my side.”The rain had lightened up, but the weight of the situation bore down on us. “We need that casing, Logan. But how do we get Daniels to hand it over?”Logan smirked. “I have a few ideas.”“Such as?”He paused for a moment, as if deciding how much to share. “What do you think of a visit to Officer Daniels’ home?”I raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Go on.”Logan
EllaA sharp jolt of realization pulled me out of my sleep. The luminescent glow of dawn was already seeping through the window blinds. How long had we been asleep?Frantic, I scrambled upright, inadvertently knocking a few papers off the cluttered desk.“Logan!” I shook his shoulder, urgency lacing my voice. “Wake up. We overslept!”His eyelids fluttered open, his usually sharp eyes clouded with confusion. “Ella? What time is it?”My fingers flew to my wristwatch, and a gasp escaped my lips. “God, it’s nearly time for the court session! We have minutes, Logan, minutes!”His eyes widened as he registered the severity of the situation. “Damn,” he cursed, running a hand through his disheveled hair.“Come on!” I urged, grabbing my files and purse, doing my best to appear somewhat professional. Looking at my reflection in a nearby window, I grimaced at the mascara smudged under my eyes and the crease lines imprinted on my cheek from the papers.As Logan and I dashed through the halls of t
Ella“Objection, Your Honor!”The courtroom was thick with tension, so palpable that it felt like a heavy blanket draped over everyone present. The high ceilings held shadows of statues from times long past, the weight of justice and history pushing down. The golden chandeliers that hung from the ceilings almost seemed to be swaying slightly, their dull glow illuminating the wooden panels which lined the room, giving it an age-old grandeur.
EllaThe golden chandeliers of the courtroom seemed to dim as Judge Milton beckoned Mr. Westbrook and me to his private chambers.The anticipation was suffocating, every step echoing with a gravity that felt overwhelming. The grandeur of the courtroom gave way to the more intimate confines of Judge Milton’s chambers—a room steeped in history, with dark wooden panels, shelves lined with
EllaThe familiar glass and steel structure of my firm loomed large as I approached, trying to shake off the morning’s events. The legal world moved fast, and I hoped the afternoon would be a reprieve.Upon entering, I was met with a hubbub of chatter. Everywhere I looked, small clusters of my colleagues were in animated conversation, their gazes darting towards me with a mix of curiosity and
EllaSobs shook my body and tears blurred my vision as I cradled my chafed wrists, the ropes having left their brutal imprint.Each throb was a piercing reminder of the dark ordeal I had just survived. God, why did I take the subway tonight? Why didn’t I call an Uber, or even call Logan to take me home after the work party?