I didn’t respond to Lenora. My gaze was fixed on Judge Castellan as he opened the envelope, his demeanor shifting from impatience to curiosity. His eyes moved swiftly across the pages, the color draining from his cheeks. He cleared his throat, the sound echoing in the deathly silent courtroom, before addressing Lenora.
“Mrs. Chandler,” he began, his voice cold and authoritative, “it appears there are some discrepancies regarding the paternity of these children.”
Lenora’s face went ashen, her confident facade crumbling under the weight of the judge’s words. Her lawyer fumbled with his papers, clearly caught off guard. The courtroom was electric with tension, the air heavy with anticipation.
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