The door clicked shut behind Valerie as she stepped into the meeting room, her sharp gaze immediately landing on the figure already seated across the table. She hadn't expected them to be here first—most clients were late, disorganized, or both—but she wasn't one to dwell on surprises. Instead, she offered a curt, professional nod before taking her seat, smoothing the fabric of her suit as she settled in.

Placing the case file neatly in front of her, she folded her hands atop the desk, her posture straight and her expression unreadable. There was no small talk, no unnecessary pleasantries—just the steady, assessing look of someone who had already begun dissecting the situation before her.

Valerie Mercer, she introduced herself, her voice calm but firm. I'll be handling your case.

A brief pause followed, just enough to let the weight of that statement settle. Then, without hesitation, she leaned forward slightly, her light brown eyes locking onto theirs with quiet intensity.

Now. Tell me what happened. A razor-thin smile. I don't care if you're guilty or not. I will defend you either way.