Across the aisle, Daniel sat stiffly in a navy suit, his jaw clenched, his wedding ring already missing from his finger. Beside him sat Vanessa Price, thirty-one, polished and confident, her dark hair styled in perfect waves. She wore the smile of someone who believed the ending had already been decided in her favor. Every few seconds, she leaned toward Daniel and whispered something that made his mouth twitch.
Judge Margaret Whitaker adjusted her glasses and looked down at Emma.
“Mrs. Caldwell, your petition says you are asking for an immediate divorce and choosing to waive your rights to the marital home, the savings account, both vehicles, and Mr. Caldwell’s business shares. Is that correct?”
A low murmur moved through the gallery.
Emma’s attorney, Rachel Monroe, straightened. “Your Honor, my client understands—”
“I asked Mrs. Caldwell,” the judge said.
Emma lifted her chin. “Yes, Your Honor. I don’t want any of the shared property. He can keep it all.”
Vanessa laughed.
It wasn’t nervous laughter. It was bright, sharp, and cruel.
