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?
EllaThe evening shadows stretched long and dark across my apartment’s hardwood floor, a stark contrast to the flickering yellow street light outside that threw mottled patterns on the dark brick walls of my apartment.The fragrant scent of the lavender candle I always had lit hung in the air despite the fact that I hadn’t lit it yet today, but either way, its calming effects seemed los
EllaIn Logan’s embrace, the world felt distant. All the fears and anxieties seemed momentarily shrouded by the warmth of his presence.But as we separated, the weight of the spilled wine on the hardwood floor brought a sudden, albeit misplaced, urgency to the atmosphere. The dark liquid spread lazily between the shards of glass, forming an ominous pool that mirrored my tumultuous emotions.
EllaIn the dim lighting of my apartment, with the memory of spilt wine still fresh, Logan’s face wore an expression I hadn’t seen before—gentle persuasion edged with determination.“Ella,” he began, his voice hushed yet demanding attention, “I understand that trust has become a rare commodity for you. But remember when you asked me to trust you? I did. I told you about my mother. Now, I’m asking you to do the same.”
LoganThe air in the room was thick with tension as I strode in, my gaze fixated on the man I had trusted the most—James, my chief bodyguard and the one person who I put in charge of keeping an eye on Ella all those weeks ago when I found out about the men who harassed her in the park.There were moments in life where words weren’t required to convey the depth of one’s anger, and this was one of those moments. My face, I knew, was an open book of seething fury.