Chapter 311 The Testimonies

Ella

The early morning mist hung low in the air as I approached the courthouse. Its grand stone steps and impressive facade were familiar to me now, having spent countless hours within its halls.

However, today was different. Today, the weight of the impending trial pressed heavily upon me, making each step feel just a bit heavier.

It had been a month since Logan told me about his second case. A month of hard work, of stone walls and questionable morals. No matter how much I tried to convince him to reconsider his stance on the case, he wouldn’t budge.

And eventually, I gave up. Before I reached the grand entrance, a figure leaning against one of the building’s pillars caught my eye. Logan.

Even from a distance, the tailored fit of his suit accentuated his stature, and I had to admit, he looked especially handsome. His posture was relaxed, hands buried deep in his pockets, but there was a tightness in the set of his shoulders, a hint of unease that I hadn’t seen before.

Over the last month, working side by side with him, my admiration for his professionalism had been tainted by the growing resentment I felt. His refusal to see the real-life consequences of his actions, his seeming indifference to the fates of the tenants, it left a bitter taste in my mouth.

As I drew closer, I noticed a somewhat sad and apprehensive look in his eyes. Was it possible that beneath that calm, confident exterior, there lay a man grappling with his own conflicts?

Or was I merely hoping for some semblance of empathy from him?

“Ella,” he greeted, pushing off from the pillar, his voice smooth, a contrast to the tension in his gaze.

replied, nodding in

sleep well last night? Are you prepared to win this case?” His question felt genuine, but it also underscored

countless

I finally said, my voice betraying none of the inner turmoil I felt. Instead, I offered a tight-lipped smile, hoping to sidestep the deeper implications of his

closest coffee machine. Its mechanical hum and the faint aroma of brewing coffee was oddly comforting in the midst of the tension. As I fumbled for some change, I heard

of amusement in his tone. “Have I note been paying you enough? You could get yourself something much better. Hell, I could have brought you a

comment was typical Logan, always seeking the finer

it grated on me. With everything at stake, with the

“Something to keep my mind sharp for the

in my tone, his eyebrows drawing together slightly. For a moment, an awkward silence

searching, as if trying. to decipher the layers of emotion and thought beneath my words. I could

maybe, he was beginning to see the broader picture, to understand the gravity of what was at stake. But he said nothing. Instead, he took a step back, giving me

signaling that my coffee was ready. Taking the cup, I met Logan’s gaze once more. There was so much left unsaid between us, so many

in,” I finally said, breaking the

nodded. “Yes,

was dense with anticipation, a quiet

my shoulders, and the complexity of my feelings only deepened the burden. Each testimony from the tenants was like

Mr. Delaney, began, “please tell the court about yourself

the room before settling on the judge. Next to her stood a young boy, not older than five or six at the most, with a thin face and an IV port visible on his

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