“‘Bias’ is a loaded word. Try another one—‘decided.’ With all the game-playing, you haven’t made a decision about Darren and what custody arrangement you’d recommend to the court?” Retta looked skeptical.

“No.”

“Jessa, come on.” Retta snorted and managed to sound regal doing it. Probably had something to do with her royal-blue pantsuit and wearing the exact right amount of gold jewelry. “It’s just the two of us in this room.”

“I haven’t heard the evidence or spoken with enough witnesses yet.” That was the right answer. Not really the truth, but the commonsense, good-lawyer answer. “I’m waiting on Dr. Downing’s report, and I don’t think she’s anywhere near ready to make a custody recommendation.”

“Do you think you will ever collect enough evidence to convince Darren he caused this mess?”

Jessa knew the right answer to that one. “Not that guy. No.”

“Do you think Darren Bartholomew’s actions put Curtis in danger?”

“Yes, I—”

“Are you worried about his wife Ellie’s behavior negatively impacting Curtis?”

“Not really.”

“Be more specific.”

Jessa got swept up in the informal cross-examination and didn’t dare fail to answer. “I wish she were . . . stronger so she could fight back against Darren and his connected family. I worry about them running over her, but—”

“Which would endanger Curtis, her son, correct?”

When she put it that way . . . “Well, yes.”

“And he is your only concern here. He is your responsibility, not his parents’ precious feelings.”

Despite what Covington might think, yes. “Right.”

“Then you’ve decided.” Retta’s tone had a bit of a gotcha tone to it.

Jessa wasn’t ready to admit she’d made up her mind this early because it sounded like failure. She should plow through. Remain even and keep listening as the case progressed. “Things could change. The evidence could show—”

Retta frowned. “People rarely change for the better as a contested divorce drags on.”

“Your take is a little surprising.” From anyone else, the interrupting would be too much. Jessa lashed out at people for less. Retta could do and say whatever the hell she wanted.

“What we talk about here, between us, or possibly at some point in the future with the group, is separate from the outside world and my job as a judge.”

“Can you really compartmentalize like that?” Jessa could barely maintain a private life, let alone nurture it and separate it and give it room to grow.