Clara’s apartment felt smaller than ever, walls pressing inward as she scrolled through article after article. Each one said the same thing. Clara Jennings, accused of murdering Evelyn Marsh. Clara Jennings, found guilty after damning testimony. Her own face stared back from the screen, eyes wide, lips pursed mid-sentence on the witness stand. Only now,…
The courthouse doors burst open behind her as Clara stumbled down the marble steps, breath ragged, heart hammering. Shouts echoed—“Stop her!”—but she didn’t look back. She plunged into the stream of pedestrians, weaving through suits and briefcases, ignoring their startled glances. Her reflection in the glass façade of a bank caught her eye. Her face…
The courtroom smelled of stale coffee and wood polish. Clara Jennings sat rigid in the witness box, palms pressed against her skirt to hide the tremor in her hands. Every eye was on her—jurors leaning forward, the prosecutor nodding with practiced encouragement, the defendant watching with that unnerving calm, the kind that only the rich…