The courtroom buzzed with tension, the air thick with judgment and barely contained whispers.

Roxanne sat in the defendant’s box, the cold metal of the handcuffs biting into her wrists, a cruel reminder of how far she had fallen.

Her head throbbed, not just from the bright fluorescent lights overhead, but from the sheer disbelief at how quickly her life had spiraled into this nightmare.

Across the room, Rex sat confidently at the prosecution’s table, his smug smile thinly veiled under a mask of fake concern.

He looked every bit the grieving brother, playing the part to perfection, painting himself as the selfless protector of Ciel, the poor, helpless younger...