The drive downtown took twenty minutes. Dad didn’t turn on the radio. He drove with both hands on the wheel, the way he’d taught me, at ten and two.
“Are you okay?” I asked.
“Fine.”
“You’re wearing a suit.”
“It’s a courthouse.”
“You wore jeans to the last four hearings.”
He didn’t answer.
I looked at him. His jaw was set the way it had been in my living room, staring at the hole by the fireplace.
“Dad. What’s going on?”
He kept his eyes on the road.
“Nicole, let Claire handle today,” he said. “Whatever happens. Okay?”
Ezoic
My stomach tightened.
At the courthouse, Brian was already seated beside his lawyer.
He looked good. That was the first thing I noticed, and I hated that it was the first thing I noticed. He’d gotten a haircut. He was wearing a navy suit I’d never seen before. He had the relaxed, easy posture of a man who believed he’d already won.
