Sacrifice.
Brittany nodded solemnly from the gallery.
Her eyes shone with hunger.
Judge Whitman wrote something on his pad.
Caldwell turned to my sister. “The plaintiffs call Brittany Price.”
Brittany rose slowly, one hand on her belly, as if the entire courtroom existed to witness her maternal courage.
She took the oath.
Then she lied with the softness of a nursery rhyme.
“Cassidy used to be so different,” she said. “Now she ignores our calls. She acts paranoid. She thinks everyone wants something from her.”
I rested my hands on the table.
Everyone did want something from me.
My condo.
My money.
My compliance.
My silence.
Caldwell tilted his head. “What would your family like to see happen?”
Brittany sniffed. “Mom and Dad have a finished basement in the suburbs. It’s safe. Quiet. Cassidy could stay there while she gets help.”
The basement.
A cold little laugh almost escaped me.
