Chapter 2

The next morning, I was in court at nine o'clock sharp.

My client was a woman who had survived ten years of domestic abuse.

Broken nose twice.

Cigarette burns on both arms.

Her husband refused to divorce her unless she surrendered her property rights and gave up their child.

She trembled in the hallway before the hearing.

"Ms. Sutton... I'm scared."

I squeezed her hand.

"Don't be. From today on, no one touches you again. I will get back everything they took from you."

The opposing counsel tried to call ten years of violence "ordinary marital conflict."

I answered with hospital reports, witness recordings, bloody clothing, and screenshots of the husband's drunken boasts about how he disciplined his wife.

By closing argument, the room was silent.

"The law is not here to excuse power," I said. "It is here to protect the weak. Marriage should never become a cover for violence. My client is not here for pity. She is here for justice, dignity, and what is hers."

We won.

Seventy percent of the marital property to my client.

Full custody of the child.

Monthly support.

A restraining order.

When I got back to Benson & Sutton, Chloe already had coffee waiting.

She was my law school friend, my best friend, and my partner.

"So Her Majesty has returned victorious?"

I dropped into the sofa.

"Her Majesty is exhausted."

Chloe tilted her head. "You go into court and tear men apart for other women, then go home and let your own husband ignore your existence. Terrible business model, Mia."

"Exactly," I said. "So I'm done."

I opened a blank document and typed five words:

Divorce Settlement Agreement.

Chloe watched quietly for a long moment, then only said,

"Fine. Tonight I'm buying dinner. And none of it is cooked by you."

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