CHAPTER 181

Declan

The courtroom smelled of old paper and polished wood, a place that had seen too many lives shattered and justice—whatever that meant—served in one form or another.

I sat between Hazel and my mother, Miriam, my hands clenched together so tightly that my knuckles had turned white. Hazel placed her hand over mine, a silent attempt to comfort me, but nothing could ease the anger raging inside m