The morning of the trial arrived shrouded in an uneasy silence, the sun peeking through a layer of gray clouds that seemed to reflect our collective anxiety. I stood in front of the mirror, smoothing down my shirt, my mind racing with thoughts of our children and the weight of the accusations. I stole a glance at Kenneth, who was pacing the room, a furrow of worry etched on his brow.
“Are you ready?” I asked, trying to infuse my voice with calm.
“As ready as we can be,” he replied, pausing to meet my gaze. “We’ve done everything we can. Now we just need to trust the truth will shine through.”
“Let’s hope it’s enough,” I said softly, thinking of Tim and Sarah, who deserved better than to bear the burden of this nightmare.
As we made our way to the council hall, the atmosphere felt elect
