The courtroom hushed, the air thick with tension, as Cathleen's lips curled into a knowing smirk. She pierced Anastasia with her gaze, unyielding and as sharp as a scalpel. "Miss Brown, I would like you to repeat your statement," she demanded, her voice cutting through the whispers that had begun to swirl like vultures around a carcass.

Anastasia's voice trembled, her eyes darting about, seeking an escape that wasn't there. "I said I don't know. I don't remember."

Cathleen spun on her heel to face the judge, the hem of her tailored gown flirting with the edge of aggression. "Your honor, Miss Brown doesn't remember what happened that night. How...