I stood beside my sister’s coffin, one hand on the tiny casket ribbon meant for the baby she never got to hold, when her husband walked in with his mistress on his arm. My bl:ood ran cold. ‘You really thought I wouldn’t find out?’ I said, flashing my badge. For weeks, I’d gathered every lie, every message, every trace of bl:ood. And when I exposed him in front of everyone, his smile vanished—but that was only the beginning.

The jury deliberated for less than four hours.

When they filed back into the courtroom, the tension was thick enough to choke on. My mother gripped my hand so hard her nails dug into my skin.

“Has the jury reached a verdict?” the judge asked.

The foreperson, a stern-looking woman in her fifties, stood up. “We have, Your Honor.”

I held my breath.

“On the charge of first-degree murder in the death of Elise Sterling, we find the defendant... guilty. On the charge of first-degree murder in the death of the unborn child, we find the defendant... guilty.”

The courtroom erupted. My mother collapsed in her seat, sobbing uncontrollably. My father wrapped his arms around her.

I looked at Victor. The charming, wealthy, untouchable real estate tycoon was gone. He looked hollowed out, staring at the jury box in sheer disbelief. As the bailiffs approached to lead him away, he turned his head and met my gaze one last time.