It was only an arraignment—a simple judicial process, really, but Kate felt her palms sweat. This was her first legal matter for Bent & Lange, and she didn’t want to mess it up.

It’s show time.

She bent over her client’s bed. “Leah, the judge and the court clerk have arrived.”

Her client slowly opened her eyes. “Okay.” Her voice was a mere breath.

Kate frowned, concerned. “Leah, how are you feeling?”

“Not too good.”

“Do you understand what is going to happen?” That was the test for whether the process would go forward. If her client had capacity, she would be brought before the law.

“I plead not guilty…” she murmured.

Kate studied her client. Should she call a halt to the arraignment? In her opinion, her client was borderline for lack of capacity.

Hillcroft watched their exchange from the doorway.

If she halted the arraignment, the police would still be guarding Leah. Detective Gabriel seemed very sharp. She might ask her client questions that could hurt her down the road. On the other hand, if the arraignment went forward, the custody of Leah would be turned over to the sheriffs, and they weren’t part of the police investigation. They were less likely to connect any dots to build the Crown’s case against her.

Kate patted Leah’s hand. It was like patting marble. “Okay, just remember to say the same thing when the judge comes in.”

As if on cue, a robed Judge Fitzgerald strode into the hospital room and took a position by the head of Leah’s bed. If possible, the room became even more hushed than before.

The clerk, a young woman with blond-streaked hair pulled back into a ponytail and high-heeled pumps, hurried in behind him. She held a notepad and a Dictaphone. It was an archaic piece of technology, but the judicial system wasn’t known for its leading edge approach to anything. The Dictaphone was carefully positioned on a wheeled table, which was pushed next to the judge.

Judge Fitzgerald’s gaze flicked over Leah. Dispassionate. Assessing. A dark-robed phantom of Justice looming over the ghost of shattered potential.

“Ms. Roberts, I am Judge Fitzgerald. I will preside over your arraignment.” The judge then nodded to Leah’s parents, who watched anxiously from the foot of the bed. “Good afternoon.”

Kate stepped forward. “Your Honor, I am Kate Lange, representing Ms. Roberts.”

He turned his gaze to her. “Have you explained the nature of the proceeding to your client, Counsel?”

From the corner of her eye, Kate saw Hillcroft lean forward. They had roughly adopted the formation of a courtroom: Judge Fitzgerald stood by the head of her bed, with Hillcroft next to the foot of her bed, and Kate slightly to the back.

“Yes, Your Honor.”

He gestured for Kate to come closer, his sleeve flapping. “Counsel, we need to dispense with some of the formalities for the Dictaphone to record this proceeding.”