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That’s not a bad thing; smaller means contained.

I turn toward the jury and let myself take a deep breath, once, deliberately. Slowly. Focus.

“This case is about numbers,” I begin. “Invoices. Payments. Ledgers. Accounting records that the prosecution will present as though they tell one undeniable story.”

I pause.

“But numbers do not tell stories by themselves.”

The jurors are watching me, their eyes tracking me as I walk slowly around the table and toward their seating area.

“Accounting is not an exact science. It is a system built and maintained by people. People interpret records. People enter information. People make mistakes. Sometimes those mistakes are insignificant. Sometimes they are substantial. But a mistake in a ledger is not automatically fraud.”

I let the silence settle.

“The prosecution has a burden in this courtroom. They don’t have to prove that a mistake happened. They have to prove that a crime happened. They have to prove intent. Knowledge. Deliberate deception.”

My gaze moves across the jury. I can sense Mikhail shifting behind me, and somehow I can sense Vasily as well. A strength, a presence that bolsters me, straightens my back and calms my nerves.

“And when the evidence leaves room for another explanation, you cannot simply choose the one that makes the prosecution’s case more convenient.”

I can feel my confidence returning with every word. This is familiar. This is mine.

I glance toward Mikhail. He’s watching me with something close to hope. Then, despite myself, my eyes move toward the gallery.

To Vasily.

He’s leaning back in his pew, arms crossed, watching me with an expression that would probably intimidate most people.

I know better.

There’s a smirk at the corner of his mouth. Not mocking, but proud.

My stomach flips. I immediately look back at the jury.

“We are going to examine every number. Every invoice. Every signature. Every assumption the prosecution has made. And when we do, I believe you will see that what appears simple from a distance becomes much less certain when you look closely.”

I return to the defense table, organizing my portfolio calmly before taking a seat next to Mikhail. The judge explains, succinctly and factually, that the next hearing will be for the presentation of evidence. Things are wrapping up, for today, at least.

For the first time since walking into this courtroom, I feel steady. Vasily’s smirk is still burned into my mind. And somehow, that tiny expression tells me exactly what I need to hear.

Keep going.

Chapter 34

Vasily

For the last hour and a half, I haven’t been able to take my eyes off Matilda. She is a force of nature. Watching her set up the room to dismantle the prosecution’s argument piece by piece, I feel something I rarely allow myself to feel.

Pride.

Not just because she is brilliant, though she is. Not just because she knows exactly where to press and when to pull back. I’m proud because she is standing in that courtroom with my business in her hands, and for the first time since this entire mess began, I feel safe enough to let someone else hold it.

I trust her.

The realization is almost unsettling.

I glance at Mikhail. He sits straighter now than he did when I walked in. The fear hasn’t disappeared from his face, not entirely, but there is something else there too. Hope. Matilda has given him that.