Joyce tilts her head, a calculated smile playing at the corners of her mouth. ”On what grounds?”

”These texts have nothing at all to do with this case, Your Honor,” Kelly replies.

Joyce shakes her head. ”You opened Pandora’s box when you introduced your client’s text earlier.” Her voice carries a hint of triumph, sweet as the first bite of a ripe peach.

The judge adjusts her wire-rimmed glasses. ”She’s right, Ms. Powell. Overruled.”

”But Your Honor—” Kelly says.

”I’ve made my ruling, Ms. Powell. Sit down.” The judge’s tone brooks no argument, her gavel poised threateningly.

Kelly exhales sharply and reluctantly lowers herself into her chair, the leather creaking beneath her.

Joyce approaches the witness stand, her shoes clicking rhythmically across the polished floor. She points to the paper in Michelle’s trembling hand. ”Do you recognize the text messages in front of you?”

Michelle’s gaze drops to her lap as she nods, a strand of honey-blonde hair falling across her face. ”Yes,” she softly says, barely audible in the now-silent courtroom.

”And just for the record. These are texts you sent, correct?” Joyce asks, circling closer like a shark scenting blood.

”Yes.” Michelle says.

”And to whom are the texts sent?” Joyce’s voice is velvet-wrapped steel.

”One is sent to Bette…” Michelle says, then presses her lips together, the color draining from her face.

Joyce lifts her perfectly arched brows. ”And the other?” Her question hangs in the air like a guillotine blade.

”To…to Ava…” Michelle finally says, her voice cracking on the name.

”And who’s Ava?” Joyce asks with a sarcastic, playful tone as she folds her arms across her chest, her expensive gold watch glinting under the harsh lights.

Michelle stays silent, her shoulders hunched as if bracing for impact.

The judge leans forward, her bench creaking under the shift in weight. ”Answer the question please, Mrs. Adams Porter.”

Michelle sighs, a deep, defeated sound that seems to deflate her entire body. ”She’s a friend and former co-worker,” she murmurs, not meeting anyone’s eyes.

Joyce fixes Michelle with a steady, incisive gaze. “And the woman you were having an extramarital affair with while still married to my client, correct?” Her voice rings out, measured and unyielding.