Joyce’s pen scratches across a cream-colored notepad. After a moment’s pause, she looks at Michelle. ”In your opinion, Ms. Adams, when did your marriage stop being so perfect?”

Michelle straightens in the witness box; shoulders squared against the courtroom’s hushed intensity. ”Excuse me?”

Joyce stands with deliberate slowness. ”You described your marriage as nearly perfect. From your view, when did that change?”

Michelle glances toward the spectator gallery, giving Tina a hardened glance. ”I can’t really pinpoint an exact moment…”

”Would you say it was before or after Tina Kennard’s return to Los Angeles?”

Michelle’s fingers twitch against the polished oak of the witness stand before she responds. ”After, I suppose…”

“And in your opinion, why do you think that is?” Joyce asks.

Michelle once again glances towards Tina. “I suspect Ms. Kennard had an agenda when she returned….”

Joyce slides her hands into her pockets as she steps forward. ”Ms. Adams I—”

”It’s Adams Porter…” Michelle says, a flush creeping up her neck like spilled wine.

Joyce offers a slow, precise smile that never reaches her eyes. ”Right. My apologies. Mrs. Adams Porter, you’re claiming concern for your son’s emotional well-being. Correct?”

Michelle inclines her head once, pearl earrings catching the light. ”Yes.”

”And you allege that this concern is rooted in the fear that my client’s partner may ’disappear’ from his life?”

Michelle’s nod is firm. ”Yes.”

Joyce leans forward, voice low. ”Are you a liar, Ms. Adams—”

Michelle’s jaw tightens; her voice edged with steel. ”It’s Adams Porter. And everyone lies from time to time.”

Joyce’s eyes narrow to obsidian slits. ”Then that would be a, yes?”

Kelly springs to her feet. ”Objection, Your Honor—”

The judge raises a liver-spotted hand, halting her mid-rise. She turns to Joyce. ”Get to the point, Counselor.”

”Absolutely, Your Honor.” Joyce steps back to the mahogany table, retrieving another set of papers from an assistant. With a swift motion, she tosses a copy to Kelly, then hands one to the judge and one to Michelle, the papers whispering through the air. ”This is Exhibit B.”

Kelly’s emerald eyes widen as she scans the page, her fingers tightening around the paper’s edge until the knuckles bleach white. ”Objection!” Her voice cuts through the hushed courtroom like a diamond through glass.