“You chose the wrong woman.”
Voss reacted instantly. “Your Honor, we object to any undisclosed material.”
Judge Marlowe accepted the folder but didn’t open it. “Mrs. Hale, explain.”
I felt Daniel’s gaze on me, trying to force me back into silence with the same look he used at home, in elevators, at charity galas, beside hospital beds where donors smiled for photographs.
I didn’t look away.
“The documents inside were produced last night under emergency order by First Meridian Bank,” I said. “They were delayed because my husband provided this court with false account numbers.”
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