The air was thick with tension, the kind that settles into bone and refuses to leave. The powers of attorney had been lodged—the paperwork was done, the practicalities handled. If anything went wrong, if complications arose, there would be no need to hunt for a signature. It was a small mercy, but a mercy nonetheless.

But Paddyy wasn’t listening. Not really. His mind was elsewhere, caught in a storm that had been brewing for months. Someone urged him to stop, to let go. He’d done enough. Tomorrow was the day. Focus on tomorrow.

“Yeah, I’d prefer not to, if I’m honest,” Paddyy admitted, a grim smile tugging at his lips. Better to stay busy. Busy meant no time to think. No time to spiral.

The reassurance came, gentle but firm. The jury would see sense. He’d be back in the surgery before he knew it, getting scratched by Mrs. Hawthorne’s cat—a mundane nuisance that suddenly sounded like paradise.

“I hope so. But Mrs. Hawthorne’s cat can flipping do one.”

A laugh, barely masking the dread. Then a moment of quiet. Something wasn’t working. Of course it wasn’t. Because no money was changing hands. Because this wasn’t a transaction—it was support, raw and unconditional. Everyone was rooting for him. And Paddyy, despite everything, said thank you.

But the conversation shifted. It had to be worth looking for him.

Aldo. That was the name that surfaced. Simo. That was the other. But a surname? Nothing. Was Simo even real, or just a phantom, a whisper in the dark of a case that had already slipped through their fingers?

“We were just talking about you running with Simo. I cannot believe you point blank refused. It’s ridiculous.”

Well, not really. Damaged people, weren’t they? And after what Paddyy’s dad had done—letting him down, burning that bridge—there was no reason Simo would feel like he owed anyone a favor. Not anymore.

“It’s not fair. I reckon I spooked him. Probably too late for a new witness anyway.”

But was that certain? Did anyone know?

“I don’t know where he is. I have no chance of finding him.”

The words hung in the air, final and heavy, until someone was sent to grab crisps from the cupboard, a small domestic interruption in the middle of a crisis.

And then she was back. The one who’d been away. She wasn’t going to miss all the excitement, she said, even as she started making sandwiches. “Bread goes on the outside, right?”—a joke that barely landed, because something had changed. Something in her face, in her glow.

“I heard the good news. It’s first scan day. I got excited. Let it slip.”

The secret was out. A first scan. A baby on the way. A new life, teetering on the edge of this chaos.

“How would you feel about having a little baby brother or sister?”

The question landed like a bomb. Eyes went wide. “Oh my god, Joe. He asked.”

“We said not to laugh until after the scan.”

“What difference does a couple of hours make?”

The argument tumbled out, half excitement, half betrayal. The glow was obvious, everyone could see it. But if her face was red, it was from anger, not joy. She’d wanted to wait. She’d wanted control over one thing in this unraveling world.

“You have so much confidence, don’t you? Like you can just charm your way out of anything.”

“It’s worked for me so far.”

A pause. Then the declaration: “This isn’t just any old baby. This is a new Tate. It’s royalty.”

The weight of legacy pressed down. But there was no time for celebration. The scan waited. The trial waited. And someone was avoiding the boss, ducking out of conversations, slipping through coffee shops with excuses that fooled no one.

“You’ve got time for a quick word?”

No. But yes anyway. Two cappuccinos. An apology for yesterday, for getting in the way. For trying to help and making it worse.

“I’ve ordered you a coffee.”

“Perfect. I’m sure Sarah could do with your help.”

A dismissal dressed as opportunity.

“Why are you so tense?”

“Because you crept up on me.”

“This isn’t going to involve anything unpleasant.”

“No, listen. I need a favor.”

A favor. From one who’d been sidestepped. On behalf of a friend.

“This is for Paddyy.”

Sit down.

The trial starts tomorrow.