Her mouth went dry at the seriousness of his tone. She nodded.

“At this point, you can’t afford not to take Ms. Cramer’s charity, unless you want to spend the next twenty-five years in prison or a mental health facility for criminals.”

“I’m not crazy.” Her voice shook.

“Your therapist has already contacted the police and I know for a fact the District Attorney’s Office will want to get an independent psychological assessment before they proceed much further.”

What if she had lost her mind? Snapped? Despondency rose inside her. She’d been close to it the day Quentin had found her in that squalid little hut in Indonesia. She folded her arms over her chest, not wanting to reveal how unsettled she was at the thought her sanity might have slipped, especially if she’d then gone and murdered someone. Not just someone—a friend, a good friend.

She shivered, chilled to the bone. She didn’t think she’d ever warm up again.

The corners of Elliot Byrne’s mouth stretched downwards as if he regretted even that much honesty. “Look, Ms. Cramer obviously cares for you deeply. I suggest you let her worry about the bill while you and I work on getting you out of here.”

Darby drew in a long breath and let her lungs fill, let the physical action help calm her racing pulse even though it didn’t want to settle. Breathing exercises had gotten her through a lot of panic-inducing situations in the past. Nothing like this though. “Do you genuinely believe that’s possible?”

His smile was blindingly white. “I haven’t lost a case yet.”

His arrogance was attractive because he was on her side. Darby straightened. “In court you mean? You think this will go to trial?” Was that good or bad? She didn’t even know if she was innocent or guilty. She didn’t know if she should confess that to him or keep her mouth shut and hope this guy was as good as he evidently thought he was.

He lost the smirk. “I’d rather this case never make it to trial, but if it does, I’m confident of my abilities.” He leaned back in the uncomfortable chair. “Now, I’d like you to talk me through the events of last night.”

She stared at her intertwined fingers, not wanting to look him in the eye. “Aren’t you going to ask whether or not I did it?”

“All my clients are not guilty, otherwise I wouldn’t represent them.” His smile didn’t quite reach his eyes this time.

Darby frowned. What did that mean? There was no way everyone he represented was innocent. Her eyes widened as she met his clear blue gaze. “You’re telling me you have to believe in their innocence to represent them?” Or did he tell himself that so he could take all that money with a clear conscience?

“All I need, all any jury needs, is reasonable doubt.” His expression was too controlled for jaded but Darby figured it was merely a matter of time.