“That isn’t evidence of theft either.”
“They say no one else would have taken it.”
Maya frowned.
“That isn’t evidence at all.”
For the first time in weeks, Clara felt something resembling hope.
Maya could not represent her entirely alone, but the clinic agreed to support the case under supervision.
They requested security logs.
Staff schedules.
Insurance documents.
Statements from everyone inside the mansion on the day of the disappearance.
The Hamilton attorneys fought nearly every request.
That interested Maya.
“People confident in their evidence usually want you to see it,” she told Clara.
The trial began six weeks later.
By then, reporters were waiting outside the courthouse.
The story had become irresistible.
Millionaire dynasty.
Missing heirloom.
Trusted maid accused of betrayal.
Clara walked through cameras wearing a simple navy dress she had owned for seven years.
Inside, Margaret sat beside Adam in an ivory suit.
She looked perfectly composed.
Adam looked older.
He avoided Clara’s eyes.
The Hamilton attorney presented the story efficiently.
Clara had access.
Clara had financial problems.
Clara had been alone upstairs.
