Chapter 2

"Come in, Molly," I said, my voice steady despite the tremor in my soul.

Molly entered, clutching a thick, red-spined evidence binder. She placed it on my desk with a practiced reverence she didn't feel. In my past life, I' d accepted it with a simple nod, trusting her, trusting Andrew, trusting my team. That trust had cost me everything.

"Here it is," she said, a little too brightly. "Everything from discovery, all collated and indexed."

I didn't touch the binder. I leaned back in my chair, my eyes locking onto hers. The memory of her confession, of Andrew's betrayal, was a fire in my gut. I saw the faint sheen of sweat on her upper lip, the slight tremble in her hand as she pushed the binder forward. She was nervous. Good.

"Is this everything?" I asked, my tone flat and professional.

"Yes, of course."

"Any issues with the chain of custody? Any documents that were difficult to procure?"

Her eyes widened slightly. "No, everything is standard. The paralegal team vetted it all."

"Any last-minute changes to the discovery documents?" I pressed, my gaze unwavering. "Anything at all?"

"No," she insisted, her voice a little higher now. "It's all there, just as we received it."

I let the silence hang in the air for a long, uncomfortable moment. I watched the confidence drain from her face, replaced by a flicker of panic.

Then, I made my move. I stood up and walked around my desk, deliberately knocking a stack of legal pads to the floor. As I bent to pick them up, I "accidentally" swiped the red binder, sending it sprawling across the carpet, its pages scattering.

"Oh, for heaven's sake," I sighed, feigning frustration. "Look at this mess."

Molly rushed to help, her hands fumbling to gather the papers.

"Leave it," I said sharply. She froze.

I looked at her, my expression one of sudden, unshakeable conviction. "You know what? I have a bad feeling about this. My gut is telling me something is off."

"What? What do you mean?" she stammered.

"This file," I said, gesturing to the mess on the floor. "I don't trust it. I want a new, certified copy of every single financial document related to Russo. And I want you to retrieve it. Directly from the courthouse archives. Now."

Panic flashed across her face, raw and unfiltered. "Gabrielle, we can't! That will take hours! The trial starts tomorrow! Mr. Russo will be furious if we delay our prep."

I stared her down, my voice dropping to an icy calm. "He's facing 20 years in federal prison. A few hours for absolute, iron-clad due diligence won't kill him. You're the paralegal, Molly. I'm the lead attorney. Are you questioning my strategy?"

Her mouth opened and closed, but no words came out. She was trapped.

Just then, the door swung open. Andrew Clark walked in, a triumphant smile on his face from his deposition. The smile vanished when he saw Molly' s tear-streaked face and the scattered documents on the floor.

"What's going on here?" he asked, his eyes darting between us.

Molly ran to him. "Andrew, Gabrielle is... she thinks the evidence is compromised. She wants me to go to the courthouse and pull a whole new certified set. It's crazy!"

Andrew shot me a look of pure annoyance. "Gabrielle, what is this? We' re on the one-yard line. Are you getting paranoid?"

I expected a fight. I expected him to side with her, to bully me into backing down.

But to my utter shock, he sighed, ran a hand through his hair, and turned to Molly. "Just do it."

Molly stared at him, bewildered. "What?"

"You heard me," Andrew said, his voice tight. "Go to the courthouse. Get the certified copies. Whatever it takes to appease Gabrielle's perfectionism. We can't have our lead counsel second-guessing the evidence on the eve of trial."

He gave me a look that was a complex mix of irritation and something else, something I couldn't quite read. He was playing a different game this time. And I needed to figure out what it was.