Racheal sat in the conference room, her fingers drumming restlessly on the polished surface of the table, a subconscious attempt to channel the nervous energy that coiled inside her.

Across from Racheal, her lawyer, Ms. Jeanine Harper, sat poised and collected. Her eyes, sharp as a hawk's, flicked through the thick folder of documents spread out before her. The rustling of pages was the only sound besides the distant murmur of activity outside the room.

Jeanine was a woman of experience—her gaze steady, her mind razor-sharp—and Racheal found herself clinging to the faint hope that her lawyer’s calm would somehow transfer to her. But the doubt, the fear, gnawed at...