Maya
And worse—she understood immediately that it would work.
Not on the prosecutor, not on the room. But on Reid.
Julian had finally found the one thing no spreadsheet could disprove.
Inside her, something hot and furious unfurled.
She welcomed the anger. It burned through the humiliation threatening to rise.
Of course Julian would try this. And of course Reid would believe it.
She had been so stupid.
Reid had told her not to plead guilty. Trust me, he had said in the voice she loved, the voice she trusted despite everything.
Because even after everything, after the handcuffs and the suitcase and the ruined charity and the ring she no longer wore, some broken, faithful part of her had still listened to Reid Lawson.
Plead not guilty.
She should have known better. She’d done this to herself.
Maya stared at the neutral point just above the prosecutor’s head.
She did not look at Reid. She couldn’t.
She knew his face too well. Seeing him believe this of her would destroy her all over again.
The deposition continued around her. Maya answered when addressed. Her own voice surprised her. Steady and controlled.
If someone had asked her two months ago what kind of woman she was, she would have said warm. Open. Emotional.
Now she knew that she was angry. Angry and tired of it all.
She felt exhausted at screaming the truth and not being believed.
The prosecutor asked another question and Maya answered her.
Somewhere behind her, a chair creaked slightly. Reid.
She knew where he was in the room. Her body still tracked that, even now. She hated that, hated the involuntary awareness of him that remained no matter what he’d done.
She kept her eyes fixed just above the prosecutor’s head and tried to ignore Julian.
Maya already knew what it felt like to have Reid choose someone else’s version of her over her own.
She already knew exactly how much that hurt.